THE  T9 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


IN  MEMORY  OF 
MRS.  VIRGINIA  B.  SPORER 


The 
Tory   Maid 

By 

HERBERT  BAIRD 
STIMPSON 


New  York 
Dodd,  Mead  and  Company 


Copyright,  1898,  by  H.   B.  Stimpson. 


To 

Rev.    Dr.   a?id  Mrs.    Hail  Harrison 

this  'Volume 

is  affectionately   inscribed  by 

the  Author 


2042214 


CONTENTS 


Chapter 

I.    We  Start  for  the  War  . 

II.  We  Meet  the  Maid    .     . 

III.  A  Flash  of  Steel    . 

IV.  The  Red   Cockade  . 
V.  Sir  Squire  of  Tory  Dames 

VI.  A  Tale  is  Told       .     .     . 

VII.  The  Defiance  of  the  Tory 

VIII.  The  Black   Cockade     . 

IX.  The  Red  Tide  of  Blood 

X.  The  Harrying  of  the  Tory 

XI.  The  Council  of  Safety  . 

XII.  The  Veto  of  a  Maid 

XIII.  The  Greeting  of  Fair  Lips 

XIV.  The  Return   of  the  Tory 
XV.  The  Flag  of  Truce     . 

XVI.  The  Ball  of  My  Lord  Howe 

XVII.  An  Exchange  of  Courtesies 

XVIII.  The  Crossing   of  Swords 

XIX.  The  Sands  of  Monmouth 

XX.  In  the  Lines  of  the  Enemy 

XXI.  The  Passing  of  Years 

XXII.  The   Coming  of  the  Maid     . 


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The  Tory  Maid 

CHAPTER   I 

WE    START    FOR    THE    WAR 

I,  James  Frisby  of  Fairlee,  in  the 
county  of  Kent,  on  the  eastern  shore 
of  what  was  known  in  my  youth  as  the 
fair  Province  of  Maryland,  but  now 
the  proud  State  of  that  name,  growing 
old  in  years,  but  hearty  and  hale  withal, 
though  the  blood  courses  not  through 
my  veins  as  in  the  days  of  my  youth, 
sit  on  the  great  porch  of  Fairlee  watch- 
ing the  sails  on  the  distant  bay,  where 
its  gleaming  waters  meet  the  mouth  of 
the  creek  that  runs  at  the  foot  of  Fair- 
lee.     A    julep    there    is    on    the    table 

beside   me,  flavoured   with   mint  gath- 
I 


2  The  Tory  Maid 

ered  by  the  hands  of  John  Cotton  early 
in  the  morning,  while  the  dew  was  still 
upon  it,  from  the  finest  bank  in  all 
Kent  County. 

So  with  these  old  friends  around  me, 
with  the  julep  on  my  right  hand  and 
the  paper  before  me,  I  sit  on  the  great 
porch  of  Fairlee  to  write  of  the  wild 
days  of  my  youth,  when  I  first  drew 
my  sword  in  the  Great  Cause.  To 
write,  before  my  hand  becomes  feeble 
and  my  eyes  grow  dim,  of  the  strange 
things  that  I  saw  and  the  adventures 
that  befell  me,  of  the  old  Tory  of  the 
Braes,  of  the  fair  maid  his  daughter, 
and  of  the  part  they  played  in  my  life 
during  the  War  of  the  Deliverance. 
To  write  so  that  those  who  come  after 
me,  as  well  as  those  who  are  growing 
up  around  my  knees,  may  know  the 
part  their  grandfather  played  in  the 
stirring  times  that  proclaimed  the  birth 
of  a  mighty  nation. 


We  Start  for  the  War  3 

The  first  year  of  the  great  struggle, 
ah,  me !  I  was  young  then,  and  the 
wild  blood  was  in  my  veins.  I  was 
broad  of  shoulder  and  long  of  lijnb, 
with  a  hand  that  gripped  like  steel  and 
a  seat  in  the  saddle  that  was  the  envy 
of  all  that  hard-riding  country.  I  was 
hardy  and  skilled  in  all  the  outdoor 
sports  and  pastimes  of  my  race  and 
people,  and  being  light  in  the  saddle  I 
often  led  the  hardest  riders  and  won 
from  them  the  brush,  while  every  creek 
for  fifty  miles  up  and  down  the  broad 
Chesapeake,  and  even  the  farther  shore 
as  far  as  Baltimore,  knew  my  canoe, 
and  the  High  Sheriff  himself  was  no 
finer  shot  than  I. 

You,  who  bask  in  the  sunshine  of 
long  and  dreary  years  of  peace,  who 
never  hear  the  note  of  the  bugle  nor 
see  the  flash  of  the  foeman's  steel  from 
one  year's  end  to  another,  know  not 
what  it  was   to   live  in    those    stirring 


4  The  Tory  Maid 

times  and  all  the  joy  of  the  strife. 
You  should  have  seen  us  then,  when 
the  whole  land  was  aflame. 

The  fierv  signal  had  come  like  a 
rush  of  the  wind  from  the  north,  with 
the  cry  of  the  dying  on  the  roadsides 
and  fields  of  Lexington. 

All  along  the  western  shore  the  men 
of  Anne  Arundel,  of  Frederick,  and 
Prince  George  were  mustering  fast  and 
strong.  Then  the  Kentish  men  and 
those  of  Oueen  Anne  and  all  the  lower 
shore  were  mounting  fast  and  muster- 
ing, while  from  the  Howard  hills  came 
riding  down  bold  and  hardy  yeomen. 

Then,  and  as  it  has  always  been  in 
the  old  province  of  Maryland,  the  gen- 
tlemen led  the  people,  and  everywhere 
the  spirit  of  fire  ran  like  molten  steel 
through  the  veins  of  the  gathering 
hosts,  and  the  people  took  up  the 
gauntlet  of  war  with  a  laugh  and  a 
cheer  and  shook   their  clenched  hands 


We  Start  for  the  War  5 

at  the  King  who  was  over  the  sea;  so 
it  was  the  length  and  breadth  of  the 
province,  and  so  it  was  with  me. 

And  so  one  day  the  signal  came,  and 
I  mounted  my  black  colt  Toby  and 
rode  away  to  the  Head  of  Elk  in  the 
county  of  Cecil,  where  the  mustering 
was,  to  take  my  place,  as  it  was  my 
duty  and  right  to  do,  side  by  side  with 
the  bravest  gentlemen  of  the  province 
in  the  coming  struggle  for  the  Great 
Cause. 

I  was  eighteen  in  the  month  of 
March  of  that  year  and  considered  my- 
self a  man,  and,  having  reached  man's 
estate,  I  bade  good-bye  to  my  mother 
and  rode  from  out  the  sheltering  walls 
and  groves  of  Fairlee. 

But  just  before  I  rode  within  the 
shadow  of  the  great  woods  I  turned  in 
my  saddle  and  waved  my  hand  to  the 
small,  quaint  figure  that  stood  on  the 
broad    porch    watching    me   disappear; 


6  The  Tory  Maid 

and  she  bravely  —  for  the  women  were 
brave  in  those  days  —  waved  her  hand 
in  return,  and  then  I  rode  on,  for  the 
moment  saddened  at  the  parting,  for 
the  die  that  day  would  be  cast,  and, 
though  there  woujd  be  mustering  and 
drilling  for  many  weeks  before  we  took 
up  our  march  to  the  northward,  the 
hand  of  the  cause  would  claim  me  as 
its  own. 

I  was  riding  thus  through  the  forest 
when  I  heard  hoof-beats  behind  me 
and  a  cheery  halloo,  and  who  should 
ride  up  but  Dick  Ringgold  of  Hunting 
Field,  a  lad  of  my  own  age  and  my 
true  friend  ? 

"  Why  such  a  long  face  ?  "  he  laughed. 
"  You  look  as  if  you  were  going  to  a 
funeral  and  not  to  a  hunt  that  will  beat 
all  the  runs  to  the  hounds  in  the  world. 
We  are  going  to  hunt  redcoats  and  fair 
ladies'  smiles  and  not  foxes  now ;  so 
cheer  up,  man." 


We  Sun  for  the  War  7 

"  Plague  on  it,  Dick,  you  are  ten 
miles  from  home  and  I  am  only  one," 
I  retorted.  "  You  ought  to  have  seen 
how  bravely  her  ladyship  tried  to  smile, 
too." 

"  We  will  increase  the  number  of 
miles  then,"  said  he,  and  reaching  over 
he  struck  Toby  across  the  flank.  Well, 
Toby  needs  the  curb  at  best,  and  it 
was  a  full  half-mile  before  I  brought 
him  up  and  had  a  chance  to  give  Dick 
a  rating. 

But  Dick  only  laughed. 

And  so  we  rode  on,  across  the  low- 
lying  plains  of  Kent,  northward  toward 
the  borders  of  Cecil. 

For  miles  we  would  ride  under  the 
shadow  of  the  dense  forest,  and  then 
we  would  come  to  the  wide-reaching 
fields  of  some  great  manor  or  planta- 
tion, the  manor  house  itself  generally 
crowning  some  gently  rising  knoll  amid 
a  grove  of  trees,  with  a  view  of  the  dis- 


8  The  Tory  Maid 

tant  bay,  or  creek,  or  river,  as  the  case 
might  be  ;  the  cluster  of  houses,  the 
quarters  for  the  sUives,  the  stables  and 
the  barns,  making  little  villages  and 
hamlets  amid  the  wide  expanse  of  farm 
lands  and  the  distant  circle  of  the  dark 
green  forests. 

Then,  again,  a  creek  or  river  would 
bar  our  course,  and  we  wou'i  have  to 
ride  for  miles  until  we  turned  its  head, 
or  found  a  ferry  or  a  ford,  and  so  over- 
come its  opposition.  So  on  we  rode 
until,  as  the  day  waxed  near  the  noon 
hour,  we  came  to  the  little  hamlet  of 
Georgetown,  nestling  amid  the  hills  on 
the  banks  of  the  Sassafras.  Crossing 
the  river  at  the  ferry,  we  began  the  last 
stage  of  our  journey. 

The  trail  now  skirted  the  broad  lands 
of  Bohemia  Manor,  and  crossed  the 
beautiful  river  of  that  name,  embedded 
between  the  hills  and  wide-stretching 
farm   lands. 


We  Start  for  the  War  9 

As  we  approached  the  banks  of  the 
Elk  the  country  grew  more  rolling  and 
wilder  —  in  our  front  the  Iron  Hills 
rose  up  before  us,  crowned  with  forests, 
in  sharp  contrast  to  the  low-lying 
country  through  which  we  had  been 
passing. 

And  now,  as  our  appetites  became 
pressing,  we  urged  our  horses  on,  for 
we  had  still  many  miles  to  travel. 


CHAPTER    II 

WE    MEET    THE    MAID 

We  had  just  come  in  sight  of  the 
blue  waters  of  the  Elk,  as  it  rolled 
between  the  forest-clad  hills  on  either 
side,  basking  here  for  a  moment  in  the 
sunshine,  then  lost  in  the  deeper  shad- 
ows of  the  overhanging  forest. 

"  There  rolls  the  Elk,"  cried  Dick. 
"  Only  ten  miles  more,  and  a  stroke 
upon  a  piece  of  paper,  and  then,  my 
boy,  you  are  done  for.  A  pain  that 
eats  its  way  ever  inward,  a  thirst  that 
never  slackens,  and  over  all  the  black 
night  lowering  down.  Aye,  so  it  is. 
Sir  Monk  of  the  Long  Face  ;  but  we 
will  have  some  fun  before  we  are  put 
under  the  sod  or  our  bones  are  left  to 
whiten  on  the  sands." 


We  Meet  the  Maid  1 1 

"  That  we  will,  Sir  Richard.  And 
now  we  are  in  for  it,  for  here  comes 
our  first  adventure.  Is  she  ugly  or  is 
she  fair?      Which,  Sir  Richard?" 

For,  as  we  reached  the  point  where 
our  road  joins  the  river  road,  we  saw, 
approaching  along  the  lower  road,  a 
gentleman  riding  on  a  powerful  horse, 
while  behind  him  on  a  pillion  sat  a 
slight  girlish  figure,  hidden  in  part  by 
the  broad  shoulders  of  the  rider. 

*'  By  Jove,  it  is  Gordon  of  the 
Braes,"  said   Dick. 

"  What,  the  suspected  Tory  ?  " 

''  Yes  ;  and  that  must  be  his  daughter. 
They  say  she  is  the  fairest  lass  in  all 
the  county  of  Cecil." 

"Tory  or  no  Tory,"  said  I,  "with 
a  fair  face  at  stake,  I  will  speak  to 
him." 

They  were  as  yet  some  distance  off,, 
but  as  the  rider  drew  nearer  to  us  we 
saw  that  he  was  a  splendid  specimen  of 


12  The  Tory  Maid 

manhood,  such  as  I  had  but  seldom 
seen  before. 

While  strong  of  frame  and  above  the 
medium  height,  he  carried  himself  and 
rode  with  a  courtliness  and  ease  that 
bespoke  the  accomplished  horseman 
and  gentleman.  His  splendid  head 
and  face  showed  the  marks  of  an 
adventurous  career,  and  all  bespoke  the 
blood  of  the  family  from  which  he  had 
sprung,  the  Gordons  of  Avochie. 

But  striking  as  was  the  figure  of  the 
rider,  the  glimpse  we  caught  of  the  fair 
burden  behind  made  us  for  the  moment 
forget  him. 

A  slender  figure  it  was  that  sat  upon 
the  pillion,  with  wonderful  eyes  of  the 
darkest  blue  and  hair  of  the  deepest 
brown  that  waved  and  clustered  around 
the  temples — a  mouth  that  was  win- 
some and  sweet,  a  small  and  aristocratic 
nose,  a  chin  that  was  slightly  deter- 
mined, giving  her  altogether  a  queenly 


We  Meet  the  Maid  i  3 

air,  as  she  sat  so  straight  and  prim 
behind  her  father. 

"  Sir,"  said  I,  making  Toby  advance 
and  bowing  to  his  mane,  "  as  we  are 
travelHng  the  same  way,  will  you  permit 
us  to  accompany  you  ?  My  friend  is 
Richard  Ringgold  of  Hunting  Field 
and  I   am  James   Frisby  of  Fairlee." 

"  It  will  give  me  pleasure,"  he 
replied,  saluting  courteously,  "  to  have 
your  company  to  the  Head  of  Elk.  I 
know  your  families  and  your  houses 
well,  and  you,  no  doubt,  have  heard  of 
me,  Charles  Gordon  of  the  Braes." 

"  That  we  have,"  said  Dick  Ring- 
gold. "  It  was  only  a  week  ago  that 
my  mother  spoke  of  vour  first  coming 
to  old  Kent." 

"  It  was  kind  of  her  to  remember 
me,"  he  replied.  "  She  was  a  great 
belle  and  a  beauty  in  her  vouth." 

Dick  smiled  with  pleasure,  and  I, 
taking  advantage  of  a   narrow  place  in 


14  The  Tory  Maid 

the  road,  fell  behind,  and  rode  so  I 
could  talk  to  Mistress  Jean,  much  to 
Master  Richard's  secret  indignation. 
But  she  received  me  with  a  show  of 
displeasure,  and  though  I  courteously 
asked  her  of  her  journey,  it  was  some 
minutes  before  I  knew  the  cause  thereof 

"Are  you  not,"  said  she,  and  her 
aristocratic  little  head  was  in  the  air, 
^*  afraid  to  be  seen  riding  with  sus- 
pected Tories,  you  who  wear  the  black 
cockade  ? " 

And  then  I  remembered  that  I  wore 
the  emblem  of  our  party. 

"  Afraid  !  "  I  replied.  "  Afraid  !  We 
who  have  bearded  the  Ministers  of 
the  Crown  in  the  broad  light  of  day  ? 
Do  you  think  I  am  afraid  of  our  own 
men  ?  Why,  if  Mistress  North  herself 
were  half  as  fair  as  your  ladyship  of  the 
Braes,  I  would  ride  with  her  through 
all  the  armies  of  the  patriots,  and  no 
man  would  dare  say  me  nay.", 


We  Meet  the  Maid  i  5 

A  merry  twinkle  came  into  her  eyes. 
"  Would  you  wear  the  red  cockade  if 
she  should  ask  you  ?  " 

"  Ah,  Mistress  Jean,  would  you 
seduce  me  from  my  allegiance  to  the 
cause  of  the  patriots?" 

"  To  the  cause  of  the  patriots  ? 
What  of  your  allegiance  to  the  King?  " 

"  But  the  King  himself  has  broken 
that,  and  forced  us  in  self-defence  to 
take  up  arms  in  revolt.  Would  you 
have  me  true  to  my  people,  or  to  the 
King,  who  is  over  the  sea?" 

"  To  the  King,"  she  answered 
promptly,  "  for  the  King's  Ministers 
may  be  bad  men  to-day  and  good  to- 
morrow, but  if  you  once  strike  a  blow 
at  the  mother  country  and  win,  then 
the  ties  of  love,  of  friendship,  and  of 
interest  are  severed   for  ever." 

"  Yes  ;  but  she  should  have  thought 
of  that  before  she  forced  us  to  it." 

"  What   spoiled  children    you    are>" 


1 6  The  Tory  Maid 

she  cried.  "  Because  the  taffy  is  not  as 
good  as  usual  you  want  to  pull  the 
house  down  about  our  ears." 

Thus  receiving  and  parrying  thrusts, 
we  rode  along  the  banks  of  the  Elk,  and 
as  we  neared  the  ferry  we  met  numbers 
of  men  travelling  the  same  way  with  us, 
all  bound  for  the  great  mustering,  and 
though  they  returned  our  salutations, 
seeing  the  black  cockade  in  our  hats, 
they  scowled  on  Gordon  of  the  Braes. 

"  There  goes  that  dog  of  a  Tory,"  I 
would  hear  them  growl  to  one  another 
as  we  passed. 

But  Gordon  rode  on  with  a  cool,  in- 
different, almost  contemptuous  manner, 
which  made  the  frowns  grow  blacker, 
and  the  mutterings  deeper  and  louder. 
But  no  man  as  yet  sought  to  beard  him, 
for  his  courage  and  his  daring  were 
well  known  throughout  the  shore,  and 
it  would  have  taken  a  bold  man  indeed 
to  cross  Gordon  of  the  Braes. 


We  Meet  the  Maid  17 

At  last  we  came  to  the  ferry  and  saw 
on  the  hillside,  among  the  forest  trees, 
the  white  tents,  already  taking  on  the 
appearance  of  a  well-regulated  camp. 
The  little  town  amid  the  trees,  busy 
with  the  life  of  the  moving  crowd,  and 
bright  with  the  uniforms  of  the  Mary- 
land Line,  which  we  were  soon  to 
don,  formed  a  curious  spectacle  as  we 
entered. 

Every  part  of  the  province  was  rep- 
resented. Here  was  a  tall  backwoods- 
man in  his  coonskin  cap,  buckskin 
shirt  and  leggings,  with  his  long  and 
deadly  rifle,  totally  unadorned  by  the 
glint  of  silver  or  chasing  on  the  barrel 
to  betray  him  to  his  redskin  neighbour 
—  and  you  knew  that  one  of  Cresap's 
riflemen  was  before  you. 

By  his  side,  for  the  moment,  was  a 
young  tobacco  planter  from  Prince 
George.  The  youngster  to  whom  he 
was  talking,  clad  in  the  scarlet  and  buff 


1 8  The  Tory  Maid 

of  the  Maryland  Line,  was  a  young 
dandy  from  Annapolis. 

And  so  it  was  all  through  the  crowd, 
the  frontiersman,  the  hard-riding  coun- 
try squire,  and  the  city  swell,  all  mingled 
together,  and  all  animated  with  one  all- 
pervading  and  all-engrossing  thought 
—  how  best  to  secure  the  freedom  of 
the  country  and  resist  the  tyranny  of 
the  King. 

As  we  made  our  way  through  the 
crowd  the  faces  grew  dark  as  they  saw 
the  Tory,  but  as  Dick  and  I  rode  on 
either  hand,  with  our  black  cockades, 
the  crowd  murmuringly  gave  way  be- 
fore us,  and  though  all  the  people  were 
hostile  to  him,  and  he  could  not  help 
but  see  it,  he  coolly  looked  them  over 
and  rode  as  if  he  had  no  enemy  within 
a  hundred  miles. 

But  the  colour  in  Mistress  Jean's 
cheek  flamed  high,  and  I  saw  her  little 
hands  clenched  together,  as  if  she  would 


We  Meet  the  Maid  19 

like  to  tell  these  rebels  what  she 
thought  of  their  treatment  of  her  father. 
And  I,  seeing  the  war  signal  so  clearly 
on  her  cheek,  and  daring  not  the  bat- 
teries of  her  eyes  and  wit,  was  discreet 
and  said  not  a  word. 

We  took  our  way  to  the  inn,  kept 
by  one  John  McLean,  a  genial  host 
and  Scotchman,  who  was  well  known 
in  three  provinces,  and  kept  the  finest 
inn  for  many  miles  around. 

He  received  us  in  a  jovial  way,  for 
though  he  was  a  stanch  patriot,  he  and 
Gordon  had  been  friends  for  many 
years. 

"  So,  Mistress  Jean,  you  have 
deigned  to  honour  my  roof  with  your 
presence.  Welcome,  welcome,  all  of 
you." 

And  though  I  had  swung  myself  off 
Toby  to  assist  Mistress  Jean  to  dis- 
mount, he  was  before  me  and  swung 
her  lightly  to  the  ground. 


20  The  Tory  Maid 

"  I  declare,"  he  said,  "  you  grow 
bonnier  every  day,  lassie,"  which 
brought  a  blush  to  her  cheek.  Then, 
turning,  he  called  his  wife  and  placed 
Mistress  Jean  in  her  charge. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say,  gentlemen,  that 
the  inn  is  very  crowded,  as  you  see, 
but  I  think  I  can  find  a  place  for 
vou."  Then  drawing  the  Tory  aside 
for  a  little  way,  we  heard  him  remon- 
strating with  him  for  coming  to  the 
town  at  such  a  time,  when  the  feel- 
ing ran  so  strong  and  high  against  the 
Loyalist. 

"  You  risk  your  life,"  he  said,  "  for 
the  slightest  spark  or  indiscretion  will 
bring  a  mob,  boiling  and  seething 
around  you.  The  officers  will  not  be 
able  to  hold  the  men  in,  as  they  are 
only  volunteers,  and  have  not  yet  felt 
the  hand  of  discipline." 

But  Charles  Gordon  shrugged  his 
shoulders,  and  his  reply  came  distinct 


We  Meet  the  Maid  21 

and  clear  :  "  I  thought  you  knew  me 
better,  McLean.  I  would  not  hide  my 
head  for  a  hundred  or  a  thousand  of 
them  ;  "  and  he  turned  and  went  into 
the  inn. 

The  innkeeper  made  a  gesture  of 
despair.  "  That  is  always  the  way," 
said  he,  "  both  in  this  country  and  the 
old  ;  tell  a  Gordon  of  a  danger  and  he 
will  rush  right  into  it,  and  then  expect 
to  come  out  safe  and  sound." 

We  laughed,  for  the  expression  on 
the  old  Scotchman's  face  was  so 
droll. 

"  But  now  for  your  room,  gentle- 
men ;  "  and  he  led  the  way  to  a  small 
room  under  the  gable  roof  "It  is  the 
only  room  I  have  left,"  he  said,  "  but 
you  are  welcome  to  it." 

It  was  now  somewhat  late  in  the 
afternoon,  but  having  made  ourselves 
presentable  and  partaken  of  a  lunch,  we 
went  to    report    ourselves    to    Captain 


2  2  The  Tory  Maid 

Ramsay  of  the  ist  Regiment  of  the 
Maryland  Line. 

He  received  us  at  his  tent  door  with 
a  warm  grasp  of  the  hand.  "  You  are 
the  very  lads  I  have  been  waiting  for," 
he  said.  "  I  have  two  Lieutenancies  to 
fill,  and  you  are  the  men  to  fill 
them." 

"  But,  Captain,"  said  Dick  Ringgold, 
"  we  have  not  been  tried  yet.  Let  us 
go  into  the  ranks  and  fight  our  way  up, 
as  so  many  better  men  than  we  are 
doing." 

I  could  not  help  admiring  Dick  for 
his  modesty,  and  though  I,  too,  said 
the  same  thing,  I  confess  I  hoped  the 
Captain  would  not  hear  of  it,  and  so  it 
proved. 

"  No,  no,"  he  said,  and  patted  Dick 
on  the  shoulder.  "I  must  have  you; 
I  know  the  blood  that  runs  in  your 
veins,  lads,  and  that  1  will  have  no 
better    fighting    stock    in    the    army." 


We  Meet  the  Maid  23 

And  thus  it  was  settled,  and  we  be- 
came officers  in  that  Maryland  Line, 
and — I  say  it  with  all  due  modesty 
—  the  most  famous  of  all  the  fighting 
regiments  in  the  struggle  for  the  Great 
Cause. 


CHAPTER   III 

A      FLASH      OF     STEEL 

That  night  we  sat  at  the  long  table 
in  the  dining-room  of  the  inn.  All  up 
and  down  its  great  length  sat  the  officers 
of  the  Line  —  country  gentlemen  from 
Cecil,  Kent,  and  as  far  south  as  Queen 
Anne,  who  had  ridden  thus  far  to  see 
the  mustering  and  to  give  it  their  coun- 
tenance and  their  favour.  Grave  and 
sedate  gentlemen  many  of  them,  men 
of  affairs,  the  leaders  of  their  counties, 
and  delegates  to  the  Convention  and  to 
Congress  —  men  of  the  oldest  and 
bluest  blood  in  the  province,  of  wide 
estates  and  famous  names,  whose  fami- 
Hes  wielded  a  mighty  influence  in  the 
cause  of  the  patriots  and  gave  it  stability 
and  great  strength. 


I 


A  Flash  of  Steel  25 

Then  there  was  the  parson,  a  merry 
old  gentleman,  stout  of  form,  with  a 
round  face  and  twinkling  eyes,  who  in 
his  youth  was  a  mighty  fox-hunter  in 
spite  of  his  cloth  ;  even  then,  stout  as 
he  had  grown,  when  he  heard  the  music 
of  the  hounds,  it  was  with  difficulty  he 
restrained  the  inclination  to  follow, 
which  now,  alas  !  was  made  impossible 
by  his  great  weight.  We  who  loved 
hard  riding,  hard  fighting,  and  a  strong 
will,  admired  him,  and  no  man  was 
more  popular  throughout  the  three 
counties  than  the  fox-hunting  parson. 
He  knew  the  people  and  their  ways, 
and  was  one  of  them. 

"  I  hear  you  are  fire-eaters  here,"  he 
said  to  a  vestryman  upon  being  installed. 

"  Then  we  are  well  matched,"  came 
the  reply,  "  for  they  say  you  are  a 
pepperbox." 

So  no  gathering  throughout  the 
county  was  a  success  without  the  par- 


26  The  Tory  Maid 

son,  and  by  the  unanimous  voice  of  the 
Line  he  was  called  to  be  their  chaplain. 

We  sat  therein  the  long  dining-room 
amid  the  hum  of  many  voices,  the  glare 
of  many  lights,  and  the  click  of  the 
glasses,  as  the  wine  was  going  around, 
when  a  young  man  who  sat  across  the 
table  from  me  rose  with  his  glass  poised 
between  his  fingers. 

He  was  a  handsome  man,  of  twenty- 
one  or  twenty-two,  of  dark  and  swarthy 
features,  thick  lips  and  nose,  and  hair  as 
black  as  night,  telling  of  the  Indian 
blood  in  his  veins. 

His  name  was  Rodolph,  and  he  was 
the  son  of  a  man  more  noted  for  his 
wealth  than  for  his  principles,  but  who 
was  then  at  the  city  of  Annapolis,  a 
delegate  from  the  county  of  Cecil. 

"  I  propose  a  toast,"  he  cried,  "  that 
all  true  patriots  should  drink.  A 
toast  to  the  delegates  of  this  county, 
who  at  the  convention   of  the  province 


A  Flash  of  Steel  27 

in  the  city  of  Annapolis  are  standing 
as  the  bulwarks  of  liberty  against  the 
tyranny  of  the  Crown." 

We  were  all  on  our  feet  In  an  Instant 
to  drink  the  toast,  with  a  right  good- 
will, all  except  Charles  Gordon,  who  sat 
at  my  right  hand.  He  kept  his  seat 
and  watched  us  with  a  cool,  sarcastic 
smile  upon  his  lips. 

"  Is  not  the  toast  good  enough  for 
you  ?  "  cried  Rodolph,  with  an  ugly 
sneer  upon  his  face. 

All  eyes  now  turned  to  where  Charles 
Gordon  sat,  and  he  slowly  rose. 

"  Drink  to  your  delegates.^  "  said  he. 
"  Not  I.  They  are  the  scum  of  the 
county  of  Cecil,  and  you  know  It.  I 
would  as  soon  be  governed  by  my  slaves 
at  the  Braes  as  by  such  men  as  they  are. 
I  wish  you  joy  of  them."  And  bowing, 
he  turned  and  left  the  room  by  a  door 
that  was  near  at  hand. 

For  an  Instant  there  w^as  silence,  then 


28  The  Tory  Maid 

an  uproar  broke  forth,  and  Rodolph 
sprang  around  the  table  to  follow  him, 
with  several  of  the  young  men  at  his 
heels.  But  I,  seeing  the  danger,  with 
possibly  a  thought  of  a  fair  maid's 
eyes,  threw  myself  before  the  door  with 
drawn  sword. 

"  No  man  passes  through  this  door,'* 
I  cried,  "  unless  he  passes  over  me." 

The  crowd  drew  back  in  surprise. 

"  Since  when,"  I  shouted,  for  they 
hesitated,  "  have  Maryland  gentlemen 
learned  to  fight  in  mobs  ?  If  any  one 
has  an  insult  to  resent,  let  him  fight  as 
becomes  a  gentleman,  man  to  man." 

"  Stand  aside,"  shouted  Rodolph, 
who  was  now  before  me,  "  and  let  me 
get  at  the  traitor." 

"  Put  up  your  swords,  gentlemen." 
I  found  I  had  a  new  ally  in  a  tall,  dig- 
nified gentleman,  who  took  his  place 
beside  me,  a  Mr.  Wilmer  of  the  White 
House  in  Kent. 


A  Flash  of  Steel  29 

"  The  lad  is  right,"  he  said  ;  "  and 
you,  Rodolph,  I  should  think,  would 
have  had  enough  of  Charles  Gordon  of 
the  Braes." 

At  this  there  was  a  laugh,  which  at 
the  time  I  did  not  understand  ;  but  the 
company  good-naturedly  put  back  their 
swords  and  resumed  their  places  at  the 
table,  all  except  Rodolph,  who  slipped 
away  from,  the  room. 

That  night,  as  I  lay  upon  my  bed,, 
dreaming,  boylike,  of  the  fair  eyes  of 
the  Tory  maid,  and  hoping  that  the 
part  I  had  played  in  the  matter  of  the 
toast  might  come  to  her  ears  and  cause 
her  to  give  me  a  smile  at  our  next  meet- 
ing, I  heard  the  sound  of  footsteps  com- 
ing down  the  passageway. 

"  There  is  great  danger,"  said  a  voice, 
which  I  recognised  as  the  landlord's, 
as  they  were  passing  by  my  door. 
"  Rodolph  is  stirring  up  the  crowd,  and 
though     you     might    brave    the    mob. 


30  The  Tory  Maid 

Mistress  Jean  —  "  and  then  the  voices 
died  away. 

"The  mob"  and  "Mistress  Jean." 
Clearly  something  must  be  afoot. 
Springing  from  my  bed,  I  swore  to 
myself,  that,  if  anything  happened  to 
the  Tory  maid,  I  would  make  Phil 
Rodolph  feel  the  edge  of  my  sword. 
Hastily  throwing  on  my  clothes,  I  went 
to  the  window  and  looked  out.  The 
night  was  dark,  the  sky  being  full  of 
drifting  clouds,  through  which  the  moon 
faintly  struggled;  everything  lay  quiet 
and  still  in  the  village  and  the  camp. 
Steps  were  heard  upon  the  porch  below, 
and  then  a  horse  was  brought  around 
from  the  stables.  A  moment  later  a 
horseman  mounted,  and  I  saw  a  slender 
figure  on  the  pillion  behind  him. 

*'  Keep  to  the  south  road,"  said  a 
voice,  "  they  have  only  one  sentry 
there." 

I    did    not   wait   to    hear    more,    but 


A  Flash  of  Steel  3 1 

slipped  downstairs  and  out  of  a  side 
door,  and  the  next  moment  I  was  run- 
ning softly  through  the  camp  to  the 
outpost  on  the  south  road,  for  one  of 
my  own  men  was  stationed  there,  and 
I  knew  that  without  orders  or  the  coun- 
tersign no  man  would  pass  that  way 
that  night.  It  was  well  I  did,  for  as  I 
drew  near  I  heard  the  challenge  "  Who 
goes  there  ?  "  and  the  answer  "  A 
friend." 

"  Advance,  friend,  and  give  the 
countersign." 

"Maryland."  But  the  Tory  had 
missed  it,  and  the  next  moment  the 
sentry's  rifle  was  at  his  shoulder,  and  I 
knew  the  cry  for  the  officer  of  the  guard 
would  follow  ;  so  I  stepped  out  from 
the  shadow,  and  the  sentry,  seeing  me, 
brought  his  rifle  to  a  salute. 

"  Lieutenant,"  he  said,  "  he  wants  to 
pass,  and  has  given  the  wTong  counter- 
sign." 


32  The  Tory  Maid 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  drawing  my  hat  over 
my  eyes,  for  I  did  not  wish  to  be  rec- 
ognised by  Mistress  Jean.  "  I  heard. 
But  I  know  them  ;  let  them  pass." 
"  Certainly,  Lieutenant." 
"  Thank  you,"  said  the  rider,  and  a 
still  softer  *' Thank  you"  came  from 
his  companion.  I  bowed,  but  said 
nothing,  and  stood  there  watching  them 
disappear  down  the  dark  road  until  the 
sound  of  the  horse's  hoofs  was  lost  in 
the  distance. 

"  Queer  time  of  the   night  to  ride, 
sir,"  said  the  sentinel. 

"  Yes  ;  but  they  have  far  to  go." 
"  Kent  or  Queen  Anne's,  sir?  " 
"  Down  by  Bohemia  Manor." 
"  That  is  where  that  old  Tory  Gordon 
lives  ;  they  say  they  are  going  to  rout 
him    out    in    the    morning    for   insult- 
ing the   committee   last  night.     He  is 
up  at  the  inn,  there,  and  Phil  Rodolph 
says  he  is  going  to  make  it  hot  for  him." 


A  Flash  of  Steel  3  3 

"  Mere  talk,  I  expect.     Good-night." 

"  Good-night,  sir." 

I  took  my  way  back  to  the  inn,  and 
when  I  crawled  to  my  room  once  more 
and  into  bed,  Dick  Ringgold  raised 
himself  on  his  arm  and  said  in  a  sleepy 
voice  :  "  What 's  up,  Frisby  ?  " 

"  Oh,  nothing,"  I  replied  ;  "  go  to 
sleep."  And  I  soon  followed  my  own 
advice. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE    RED    COCKADE 

The  stirring  notes  of  the  bugle  made 
us  spring  up  in  the  morning,  to  find, 
when  we  were  again  downstairs,  that 
every  one  was  talking  of  the  disappear- 
ance of  Charles  Gordon  of  the  Braes. 

Master  Richard  marvelled  much  at 
the  disappearance  of  the  Tory,  and, 
though  I  knew  it  was  of  the  Tory  maid 
he  was  thinking,  I  said  not  a  word, 
but  went  on  with  my  duties ;  and 
manifold  they  were  for  many  days  to 
come.  The  drilling  of  the  raw  recruits, 
who,  though  they  were  full  of  fire  and 
elan^  were  not  used  to  the  strict  obe- 
dience of  orders,  was  at  first  very  difli- 
cult.  But  soon  there  came  the  spirit 
and  the  pride   that  were  to  make  them 


The  Red  Cockade  35 

the  best  drilled  troops,  the  dandles  and 
macaronies  of  the  army.  And  so,  with 
the  drilling  of  recruits  and  assisting 
Captain  Ramsay  in  the  formation  of 
the  regiment,  a  week  passed  by  before 
a  day  came  when  Dick  and  I  found 
a  few  spare  hours  on  our  hands.  And 
having  certain  plans  and  purposes  in 
view,  and  not  wishing  them  ,  to  be 
known  to  Dick,  I  sat  and  watched  for 
an  opportunity  to  slip  away. 

Master  Richard,  it  was  evident,  had 
also  some  plans  on  foot,  for  after  mov- 
ing from  the  chair  to  the  top  of  a  box 
and  then  back  again,  he  stretched  his 
arms  above  his  head,  and,  yawning, 
said  :  "  I  believe  I  will  take  a  little 
canter  down  the  south  road ;  come 
along?" 

"  No,"  I  replied  ;  "I  am  going  to  ride 
a  short  distance  down  the  east  road." 

"  All  right,"  said  he,  and  springing 
from    his  chair,  he  went   to  order    his 


36  The  Tory  Maid 

horse.  I  soon  followed,  and,  having 
seen  Dick  well  on  his  way,  rode  for 
a  short  distance  on  the  east  road, 
then  turned,  rode  back,  and  entered 
the  road  which  runs  along  the  bank 
of  the  Elk,  by  which  we  had  entered 
the  town  on  our  journey  from  Kent. 
As  I  rode,  I  hummed  a  jovial  hunting- 
song  and  touched  Toby  with  the  spur, 
for  I  was  quite  jubilant  at  having  got 
rid  of  Dick  and  so  well  on  the  road  to 
my  adventure. 

My  time  was  short  and  it  was  good 
twelve  miles  to  the  Braes,  but  Toby's 
sire  was  a  son  of  old  Ranter,  and  I  knew 
he  could  do  it  in  an  hour  and  a  half. 
So  Toby  felt  the  spur,  and  I  barely 
noticed  the  miles  as  we  flew  along, 
until  we  came  to  the  road  that  leads 
south  to  the  Braes.  Down  this  road 
we  turned,  and  as  we  were  so  near  the 
end  of  our  journey  I  began  to  think 
of  the    reasons  and  excuses    I    should 


The  Red  Cockade  37 

give  for  my  visit.  Reason  !  Pshaw  ! 
What  better  reason  does  a  Marylander 
want  than  a  pair  of  blue  eyes  ?  And 
if  Mistress  Jean  should  so  much  as 
demand  it  by  the  merest  glance  of  those 
eyes,  I  would  tell  her  so.  Aye,  but 
she  is  a  Tory  and  wears  the  red  cockade. 
True,  but  the  fairer  the  enemy  the 
more  difficult  the  prize,  the  greater  the 
glory  and  effort  to  win. 

And  so,  having  justified  my  invasion 
of  the  stronghold  of  the  Tory,  I  pricked 
Toby  with  the  spur  and  rode  on  more 
rapidly,  when,  on  turning  a  bend  in 
the  road  where  it  is  intersected  by 
one  from  the  east,  whom  should  I  come 
face  to  face  with  but  Master  Richard  ? 
For  a  moment  he  stared  at  me  with 
open  mouth,  and  I  at  him ;  then  his 
brow  grew    dark. 

"  I  thought,"  he  cried;  but  suddenly 
the  humour  of  our  meeting  came  over 
him.      Thrusting    his    hands    into    his 


38  The  Tory  Maid 

pockets,  he  broke  out  into  a  hearty  burst 
of  laughter,  and  I  could  do  nothing  but 
follow. 

"  And  so.  Master  Frisby,  you  rode 
down  the  east  road." 

"  And  you,  methinks,  rode  down 
the  south."  Again  our  laughter  rang 
through  the  woods. 

"Come,"  he  cried,  "which  is  it  to 
be  ?  So  fair  a  maid  deserves  two 
cavaliers,  but  we  would  be  at  sword 
points  within  a  week,  and  I  do  not 
wish  to  lose  the  friendship  of  Mr.  James 
Frisby  of  Fairlee." 

"  A  chance  has  brought  us  here,  so 
let  chance  decide." 

"  Agreed,"  said  Dick,  pulling  out  a 
sovereign,  and  with  a  twitch  of  the 
thumb,  he  sent  it  high  in  the  air. 
"  Heads,  you  win.  Tails,  I  win." 
Then  catching  it  as  it  fell  :  "  By  Jove, 
you  have  it.  Present  my  compliments 
to    Mistress    Jean,"    he    cried,    with    a 


I 


The  Red  Cockade  39 

grandiloquent  bow,  "  and  tell  her  how 
near  she  came  to  being  Mrs.  Dick 
Ringgold  of  Hunting  Field." 

"That  I  will,  Sir  Richard."  But 
Dick  was  gone,  and  I  was  left  to  ride 
on  to  the  Braes. 

Along,  rambling  house  it  was,  stand- 
ing white  amid  the  trees,  a  wide  lawn 
around  it  stretching  down  to  the  creek 
at  its  foot;  while  beyond  could  be  seen 
the  sunlight  gleaming  on  the  bay.  A 
quaint,  old-fashioned  place,  the  low 
roof  already  growing  dark  with  age ; 
the  quiet  air  of  ease  and  comfort  brood- 
ing over  all,  making  a  fitting  setting 
for  the  quaint,  slender  little  lady  that 
ruled  its  destinies. 

A  negro  took  my  horse ;  another 
showed  me  across  the  broad  hall,  with 
its  hunting  whips  and  trophies  on  the 
wall,  to  the  parlour,  and  there  I  awaited 
the  coming  of  the  Tory  maid.  And 
as   I   sat  there,  gently  stroking  the  toe 


40  The  Tory  Maid 

of  my  boot  with  my  whip,  and  thinking 
of  that  night  at  the  inn,  of  that  soft 
"  Thank  you  "  on  the  old  south  road, 
I  heard  the  soft  swish  of  her  skirts, 
and,  looking  up,  saw  Mistress  Jean 
standing  in  the  doorway.  A  beautiful 
picture  it  was,  like  some  old  portrait 
of  Lely's,  the  maid  standing  there 
framed  in  the  old  oak.  And  I,  though 
I  had  been  to  the  balls  at  the  Governor's 
house  the  winter  before,  and  was  there- 
fore a  man  of  the  world,  sat  staring  for  a 
moment.  But  she  advanced,  and  I  was 
on  my  feet  with  a  low  and  sweeping  bow. 

"  Father  is  away,"  said  she,  "  but 
in  his  name  I  wish  to  thank  you  for 
defending  us  at  the  inn  that  night." 

So  she  knew. 

"  It  was  to  save  the  honour  of  Mary- 
land gentlemen,"  I  replied  modestly. 
"  Heretofore  they  have  not  fought  in 
mobs.  But  will  you  not  thank  me  for 
yourself?  " 


The  Red  Cockade  41 

"  When  you  turn  loyalist,  yes,"  said 
she. 

"  Almost  thou  persuadest  me  to 
become    a   traitor." 

"  You  are  that  already,"  she  said 
with  spirit. 

"  Yes,  that  is  the  way  they  have 
written  '  Patriot '  since  Tyranny  first 
stalked  across  the  world.  But  patriot 
or  traitor.  Mistress  Jean,  I  have  already 
won  one  '  Thank  you,'  and  1  hope 
some  day  to  win  another." 

"  Won  one  '  Thank  you  '  —  when 
and  where  ?  "  and  she  looked  at  me  with 
wide  open  eyes. 

Now  every  Marylander  will  admit 
that  there  are  no  more  gallant  fellows 
in  the  world  than  we  are,  and  if  any 
one  chooses  to  dispute  it,  well  and  good, 
we  are  willing  to  cross  swords  with  him 
any  day,  and  so  reprove  him  for  his 
recklessness.  Indeed,  we  have  been 
called   with   truth   the  Gascons    of  the 


42  The  Tory  Maid 

South,  and,  like  those  gallant  gentlemen 
of  old  France,  we  have  never  hidden  our 
light  under  a  bushel,  to  use  a  homely 
phrase  ;  and  so  when  I  saw  Mistress 
Jean's  air  of  surprise,  the  spirit  of  my 
race  came  over  me. 

"  Yes,"  I  replied,  "  it  was  the  sweet- 
est '  Thank  you  '  I  ever  heard." 

Again  the  mystified  look. 

"  But  where  ?  "  said  she  again. 

"  It  was  rather  dark,"  I  replied, 
"  and  the  clouds  were  drifting  across 
the  sky,  and  you,  I  am  afraid,  did  not 
know  who  it  was  who  received  that 
soft  *  Thank  you.'  " 

"  Were  you  the  Lieutenant  ?  " 

I  bowed. 

"  Oh,"  she  said,  and  she  stamped 
her  tiny  foot,  "  if  you  were  only  not  a 
rebel !  " 

"  But  even  rebels  have  their  uses." 

Thus  it  was  we  became  good  friends 
in  spite  of  the  traitor  stamped  upon  my 


The  Red  Cockade  43 

brow.  Ere  I  knew  it,  the  time  ap- 
proached when  I  had  to  mount  and 
ride.  But  before  I  left,  her  soft  hand 
rested  for  a  moment  in  mine. 

"We  march  in  a  few  days,"  said  I, 
"to  the  North,  to  the  Leaguer  of  Boston. 
There  will  be  fighting  there  and  bloody 
work.  Can  I  not  carry  a  single 
token  ?  " 

Her  nimble  fingers  flew  to  her  hair^ 
and  took  from  thence  a  blood-red  rose^ 
and  pinned  it  to  my  coat. 

"  There,"  said  she,  "  my  red  cock- 
ade ;  "  and  turning  quickly,  she  ran  into 
the  house. 


CHAPTER   V 

SIR    SQUIRE    OF    TORY    DAMES 

"Well,  Sir  Squire  of  Tory  Dames, 
did  she  smile  on  you  ?  "  The  voice 
was  harsh  and  rasping  ;  looking  across 
the  table,  I  saw  the  sneer  upon  his  lips. 
I  had  but  entered  a  moment  before  the 
dining-room  of  the  inn,  after  my  long 
ride,  and  was  about  to  take  my  seat, 
when  Rodolph's  sneering  question 
made  me  pause. 

"  That  is  more  than  you  could  ever 
win,  my  Mighty  Lord  from  Nowhere," 
I  retorted.  At  this  there  was  a  laugh 
from  those  about.  An  angry  flush 
showed  through  even  his  dark  and 
swarthy  skin  ;  for,  being  a  burly  bully 
of  the  border,  he  liked  not  being 
bearded  thus  by  a  youth. 


Sir  Squire  of  Tory  Dames     45 

"You  damned  impudent  puppy!" 
he  cried,  rising. 

But  there  stood  a  glass  at  my  right 
hand,  full  to  the  brim,  and  ere  he  could 
say  another  word  the  red  wine  flew 
across  the  table  straight  into  his  face. 

"  Take  that !  "  I  cried,  "  with  the 
compliments  of  James  Frisby  of 
Fairlee  !  " 

A  dozen  men  were  now  around  us, 
and  Rodolph,  spluttering  through  the 
wine  and  swearing  many  oaths,  de- 
manded to  be  released  from  the  hands 
upon  his  shoulders,  shouting  that  he 
would  shoot  me   like  a  dog. 

"  It  will  give  me  pleasure  to  let  you 
have  an  opportunity,"  I  replied  coolly. 
"It  will  be  a  rare  chance  for  you  to 
become  a  gentleman." 

And  so,  still  muttering  and  swearing, 
his  friends  took  him  from  the  room, 
while  I  took  my  seat  at  the  table.  But 
1  was   not   allowed  to    eat  my  meal  in 


46  The  Tory  Maid 

peace ;  for  many  gentlemen  came  to 
offer  their  services  and  to  thank  me. 
Rodolph's  overbearing  manners  had 
long  been  unpopular  among  them,  and 
the  wonder  was  that  he  had  not  been 
forced  to  fight  before.  But  I  was  de- 
termined that  Dick  should  be  my  sec- 
ond, and  so,  thanking  them  all  for  their 
kind  offers,  I  placed  my  hand  on 
Dick's  shoulder,  and  we  went  out  to- 
gether amid  a  volley  of  advice  and 
friendly  warning. 

Half  an  hour  later,  as  I  was  exam- 
ining my  sword  and  Dick  his  pistols, 
there  came  a  rap  on  my  door,  and  two 
gentlemen  entered ;  one  was  Captain 
Brooke,  the  other  Lieutenant  Barry  of 
the  Line. 

"  Lieutenant  Frisby,"  said  Captain 
Brooke,  as  he  advanced  and  bowed,  "  it 
is  my  painful  duty  to  deliver  you  this 
challenge." 

"It  is  a  pleasure  to  receive  it  from 


Sir  Squire  of  Tory  Dames     47 

your  hands,"  I  replied,  returning  his 
courtesy.  "  Lieutenant  Ringgold  and 
Harry  Gresham  of  Kent  will  act  as  my 
seconds,  permit  me  to  refer  you  to  them.'* 

Dick  now  went  out  with  them  to 
Harry  Gresham's  room  near  by,  where 
they  would  be  safe  from  interruption, 
Gresham  having  volunteered  with  Dick 
to  be  one  of  my  seconds,  and  I  went 
on  polishing  my  sword,  waiting  for  the 
issue.     At  last  Dick  came  back. 

"  Well,"  he  cried,  "  it  is  all  settled. 
You  are  to  fight  to-morrow  morning  at 
sunrise  down  in  the  little  meadow  be- 
low the  creek." 

"  Swords,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  No  ;  pistols.  I  insisted  on  swords 
at  first,  it  being  our  privilege  ;  but  Cap- 
tain Brooke  said  that  Rodolph  had 
broken  his  arm  the  year  before,  and 
that  it  was  still  too  weak  to  fight  with. 
So  I  waived  the  swords  and  agreed  ta 
the  pistols. " 


48  The  Tory  Maid 

"  It  IS  not  quite  as  gentlemanly  a 
weapon,  but  just  as  deadly.  I  have 
put  a  bullet  through  the  head  of  a  wild 
duck  flying,  and  I  think  I  can  hit  Phil 
Rodolph." 

"  That  you  can,"  said  Dick. 

It  was  a  bright,  clear  morning  as  we 
slipped  out  of  the  inn  on  our  way  to 
the  little  meadow.  The  eastern  sky 
was  already  tinged  with  crimson,  and 
the  blood-red  lances  across  the  heavens 
told  of  the  coming  dawn.  The  air  was 
fresh  and  cool  as  it  blew  up  the  river 
from  the  bay,  and  our  lungs  drew  in 
great  draughts  of  it  as  we  felt  the  breeze 
in  our  faces. 

"  A  splendid  morning  to  die  on," 
said    Harry  Gresham. 

"  And  to  live  on,  too,"  I  replied. 

"  Stop  your  croaking,  Gresham,"  put 
in  Dick  Ringgold.  We  walked  on 
silently  to  the  meadow,  where  we  found 
that  we  were  the  first  to  arrive. 


Sir  Squire  of  Tory  Dames     49 

Though  I  have  stood  on  many  a 
field  of  honour  since  that  day,  though  I 
have  felt  the  bullet  tearing  and  burning 
its  way  through  the  flesh,  and  the  sud- 
den, sharp  pain  of  the  sword  thrust,  I 
shall  never  forget  that  encounter  on  the 
meadow  beside  the  Elk,  when  I  first 
faced  the  muzzle  of  a  hostile  pistol,  and 
knew  that  the  will  behind  it  sought  my 
life. 

It  was  not  fear  that  I  felt  as  I  stood 
there,  waiting  for  the  coming  of  my  ad- 
versary, for  fear  has  always  been  foreign 
to  my  family,  but  a  sort  of  secret  ela- 
tion. For  that  day,  if  I  survived, 
though  the  down  upon  my  lip  was  as 
yet  imperceptible,  I  could  take  my 
place  as  a  man  among  men.  No  longer 
would  my  boyish  face  keep  me  out  of 
the  councils  of  my  elders,  but  I  would 
have  the  right  to  take  my  stand  and 
ruflle  it  with  the  best  of  them  all.  I 
was  there  to  win  my  spurs  as  a  man 
4 


50  The  Tory  Maid 

and  a  duellist,  and  to  show  to  all  the 
world  that  I  had  the  courage  of  my 
race.  For  then,  as  it  has  ever  been  in 
the  fair  province  of  Maryland,  we  love 
above  all  else  courage  in  a  man  ;  and  so 
it  was  I  waited  with  impatience  Ro- 
dolph's  approach,  for  it  meant  the  cast- 
ing off  of  the  boy  and  the  making  of 
the  man. 

We  did  not  have  long  to  wait,  for 
Rodolph  and  his  seconds  soon  followed 
us  down  the  path,  and  each  party 
saluted.  Then  Captain  Brooke  and 
Dick  Ringgold  measured  off  the  paces, 
and  threw  for  the  choice  of  positions. 
Dick  won,  and  I  found  myself  standing 
near  a  small  sapling,  with  my  back  to 
the  rising  sun,  which  as  yet  had  not 
climbed  over  the  tree  tops,  and  so  did 
not  interfere  with  Rodolph's  position. 
Facing  me,  twelve  paces  away,  stood 
Rodolph,  his  dark,  swarthy  face  darker, 
more  Indian-like,  and  forbidding  than 


Sir  Squire  of  Tory  Dames     51 

ever ;  behind  him  stretched  away  the 
small  glade,  and  the  smooth  green 
waters  of  the  river,  as  they  wound  their 
way  between  the  tall  forests  on  either 
side.  I  remember  watching  a  wild  duck 
as  he  went  swiftly  flying  down  the 
Elk,  when  Dick  Ringgold's  "  Are  you 
ready  ?  "  suddenly  recalled  me  to  my 
position.  "Yes,"  I  nodded.  Then  came 
the  even  counting,  "One,  two;"  but 
ere  "  two  "  had  been  uttered,  I  saw  the 
flash  of  Rodolph's  pistol,  and  felt  the 
sharp  pain  of  the  bullet  tearing  its  way 
into  my  side.  While  I,  taken  by  sur- 
prise at  such  rank  treachery,  fired  not 
so  accurately  as  usual,  and  my  bullet 
clipped  his  ear.  Dick's  sword  was  out 
in  an  instant,  and  I  verily  believe  he 
would  have  run  Rodolph  through  on 
the  spot,  as  it  was  his  duty  and  right  to 
do,  so  base  was  the  crime  of  firing  be- 
fore the  time  —  a  thing  that  had  never 
been  known   among  Maryland  gentle- 


52  The  Tory  Maid 

men  before.  But  seeing  me  reel,  he 
came  to  my  assistance,  and  threw  his 
arm  around  me. 

"  Tie  me  to  the  sapling,  Dick,"  said 
I,  "  and  give  me  one  more  shot." 

"  But  no  gentleman  should  fight 
with  such  a  scoundrel  ! "  cried  Dick 
hotly. 

"  I  waive  that,  just  one  more  shot." 

So,  with  Harry  Gresham*s  assistance, 
they  took  Dick's  sash  and  tied  me  to 
the  sapling,  and  in  this  way  enabled  me 
to  keep  an  upright  position.  Captain 
Brooke  had  come  forward  to  inquire  as 
to  my  injury,  but  Dick  met  him  and 
demanded  another  exchange  of  shots. 
"My  principal,"  he  said,  "waives  the 
treachery  that  places  your  principal  be- 
yond the  pale  of  men  of  honour.  But," 
continued  Dick,  "  if  he  should  dare  to 
fire  again  before  the  time,  I  will  shoot 
him  down  where  he  stands." 

Captain  Brooke  flushed,  and  though 


Sir  Squire  of  Tory  Dames     53 

we  saw  that  it  was  painful  to  him  as  a 
man  of  honour  to  be  the  second  of  such  a 
principal,  he  could  do  nothing  but  ac- 
cept. "  I  will  shoot  him  down  myself," 
said  he,  "  if  he  dares  again  to  do  it." 

He  then  returned  to  his  party,  and 
we  saw  by  his  angry  gestures  that  he 
was  warning  Rodolph  of  the  penalty  if 
he  should  a  second  time  transgress  the 
rules  of  honour. 

Again  we  faced,  and  I  could  feel  the 
strength  ebbing  fast  from  me,  but  I 
could  see  that  Rodolph's  face  was  pale, 
even  through  his  swarthy  skin.  "  One, 
two,  three,  Fire,"  came  again  the  fate- 
ful words  ;  but  I  had  nerved  myself  for 
the  final  effort,  and  glancing  down  the 
polished  barrel,  I  fired,  at  the  same 
moment  that  Rodolph's  pistol  rang  out. 

For  a  moment  I  saw  him  standing 
there,  and  then  he  lurched  forward,  with 
his  arms  in  the  air,  and  fell  face  down- 
ward   as    the    mortally    wounded    do. 


54  The  Tory  Maid 

With  that  there  came  a  mist  before 
my  eyes,  my  hand  fell  to  my  side,  and 
I  remembered  nothing  more.  They 
told  me  afterward  that  they  carried  me 
to  the  inn  in  the  village.  Captain  Brooke 
assisting,  after  they  had  seen  that  Ro- 
dolph  was  dead.  "  Leave  him  there  for 
awhile,'*  said  the  Captain,  as  he  came  to 
assist  Dick  in  my  removal.  "  The  dog 
had  a  better  death  than  he  deserved." 


CHAPTER  VI 

A    TALE    IS    TOLD 

I  LAY  there  at  the  Inn,  I  do  not  know 
flow  long,  but  they  told  me  afterward  it 
was  for  many  days,  hanging  on  the  brink 
between  life  and  death,  until  one  day  I 
heard  in  my  dreams  the  music  of  the 
fife  and  the  rattle  of  the  drums,  and 
awoke  to  life  and  hope  again.  The  sun- 
light was  streaming  through  the  south 
window  across  the  counterpane  of  the 
bed,  and  outside  could  be  heard  the 
steady  tread  of  marching  men. 

"  What  troops  are  those  ?  "  I  asked 
somewhat  hazily,  for  I  was  still  on  the 
borderland  of  dreams. 

"  They  are  the  Maryland  Line  march- 
ing away  to  the  North  to  join  General 
Washington." 


56  The  Tory  Maid 

"  Marching  to  the  North  ?  Then  I 
must  join  them."  And  I  tried  to  rise 
in  my  bed,  for  it  came  back  to  me  with 
a  rush  that  I  was  a  Lieutenant  in  the 
Line.  But  strong  hands  pushed  me 
gently  back  upon  my  pillow,  and  I  rec- 
ognised now  the  voice  of  my  nurse, 
Mrs.  McLean. 

"  No,  no,  Mr.  Frisby  ;  be  still.  You 
are  a  regular  little  bantam,  but  your 
spurs  are  clipped  for  some  time  yet." 

"  Why,  what  is  the  matter,  Mrs.  Mc- 
Lean P      How  did  I  come  here  ?  '* 

"  Law  bless  the  boy  !  "  said  the  good 
old  soul.    "  He  has  clean  forgot." 

But  the  dull  pain  in  my  side  soon 
brought  back  to  me  that  clear,  fresh 
morning  on  the  bank  of  the  Elk,  and 
for  a  moment  I   lay  still. 

"Did  I  kill  Rodolph?"  I  asked. 

"  That  you  did,  lad ;  and  no  man 
deserved  it  more." 

Then  I  heard  a  heavy  step  in  the  pas- 


A  Tale  is  Told  57 

sageway  outside,  and  then  a  lighter  one. 
The  next  moment  the  door  opened  and 
I  saw  my  mother,  more  pale  and  fairy- 
like than  ever,  and  behind  her  came 
Captain  Ramsay,  bluff  and  hearty,  but 
looking  very  solemn  at  that  moment. 
But  they  saw  the  news  on  Mrs.  Mc- 
Lean's good-natured  face,  and  when  1 
spoke  to  my  lady,  the  old-time  happy 
look  came  back  again,  as  she  came  to 
my  bedside  and  kissed  me,  while  the 
great  voice  of  the  Captain  came  hearty 
and  strong, 

"  Aye,  lad,  I  told  them  that  you  would 
pull  through  ;  make  a  gallant  fight,  my 
boy,  and  you  will  have  a  shot  at  the 
redcoats  yet.'* 

"  But,  Captain,  you  are  marching 
away  without  me." 

"  You  will  be  in  time  for  the  fighting, 
never  worry ;  lie  still  and  get  well. 
Half  the  young  men  in  the  Line  are 
envying  you,  you  rogue,  for  becoming 


58  The  Tory  Maid 

a  hero  before  them  all/'  And  the 
Captain  took  my  hand,  and  bade  me 
good-bye,  for  he  must  hurry  away  to  join 
his  regiment. 

A  few  minutes  later  there  came  the 
clank  of  a  sword  and  a  hurried  step, 
and  then  the  door  burst  open  and  in 
marched  Master  Dick  in  all  the  glory 
of  his  full  regimentals.  And  so  brave 
was  the  show  that  he  made  in  his  cocked 
hat,  scarlet  coat,  with  its  facings  of  buff, 
and  the  long  clanking  sword,  that  I 
longed  to  spring  up  and  don  my  own 
then  and  there.  But  my  mother's  finger 
on  her  lip  caused  him  to  stop  the  cheery 
greeting,  and  he  came  forward  on  his 
tiptoes,  holding  his  sword  carefully  to 
keep  it  from  clanking,  for  by  this  time 
I  was  growing  weak  again.  Master 
Dick  shook  my  hand  gently  and  mur- 
mured, "  Cheer  up,  old  fellow,  you 
will  soon  be  with  us  again,'*  but  I  could 
only  give  him  a  slight  smile,  for  I  was 


A  Tale  is  Told  59 

again  on  the  borderland  of  dreams. 
Dick  stood  for  awhile  looking  down  on 
me  ;  then  he,  too,  had  to  depart.  Grad- 
ually the  steady  tramp  of  marching  feet 
died  away,  and  everything  became  quiet 
and  still  again. 

The  days  passed  by,  week  followed 
week,  and  though  at  first  I  gained 
strength  but  slowly,  the  process  seem- 
ing a  long  and  dreary  one,  the  vigour  of 
a  youthful  frame  soon  asserted  itself, 
and  I  could  feel  the  returning  tide  of 
health  and  strength.  But  as  yet  1  lay 
there  upon  the  great  four-post  bed,  with 
my  mother  sitting  near  by,  her  dear  face 
bending  over  the  embroidery  frame,  as 
her  deft  fingers  weaved  beautiful  designs 
with  the  silk.  As  I  lay  there,  I  would 
wander  back  again  to  that  day  before 
the  duel,  to  the  swift  challenging  glance 
of  a  pair  of  blue  eyes  as  a  blood-red 
rose  was  pinned  to  my  coat.  But  that 
was  so  long  ago,  years  it  seemed  to  me. 


6o  The  Tory  Maid 

away  back  in  the  past,  a  memory  as  it 
were  of  a  fairy  tale  heard  from  the  lips 
of  a  grandmother  before  the  big  open 
fire  in  the  great  hall  on  a  winter  night ; 
a  fairy  tale,  aye,  and  she  the  Princess, 
with  her  blue  eyes  and  hair  of  waving 
brown,  with  her  step  as  light  as  the  dew- 
drop,  and  her  voice  as  low  and  soft  as 
the  breath  of  the  Southern  breeze  in  the 
spring;  and  then  I  would  be  her  Prince 
Charming,  with  my  coal-black  horse. 
But,  pshaw !  I  am  becoming  a  child 
again  ;  whereas  I  am  a  man,  who  has 
fought  his  duel  as  becomes  a  man,  with 
a  right  to  the  sword  by  his  side.  And 
vet  those  blue  eyes,  what  fate  was  in 
store  for  them  ?  And  would  their  chal- 
lenging glance  ever  meet  mine  again  ? 
But  here  my  mother  stopped  the  trend 
of  my  thoughts  for  a  moment. 

"James,"  she  said,  "John  Cotton 
tells  me  that  an  old  darky  comes  to 
inquire  for  you  every  night.      Strange, 


A  Tale  is  Told  6i 

is  it  not?  We  know  so  few  people 
here/' 

"  Yes,"  I  replied.  "  Does  John  Cot- 
ton know  who  he  is?" 

"  No ;  he  refuses  to  tell,  and  all 
John  Cotton  can  find  out  is  that  he 
leaves  town  by  the  river  road.  He 
appears  to  be  a  stranger  to  all  the 
other  darkies,  and  nobody  seems  to 
know  him." 

By  the  river  road !  Could  it  pos- 
sibly be,  then,  that  it  was  the  Tory 
maid  who  sent  those  many  miles  to 
see  if  I  were  in  the  land  of  the  living 
or  the  dead  ?  Ah,  it  was  too  pleasant 
a  thing  to  dream  of;  too  pleasant  to 
have  it  shattered  by  the  rough  hand  of 
fact.  And  so  I  said  dreamily,  "It  is 
only  one  of  John  Cotton's  stories,  I 
suppose." 

Yet  I  would  not  have  believed  it 
otherwise  for  all  of  John  Cotton's 
weight    in    gold.     Thus   it  was    I   was 


62  The  Tory  Maid 

thinking  one  day  of  the  Tory  maid, 
when  the  door  opened,  and  a  tall,  dig- 
nified gentleman  came  in  —  the  man 
who  had  stood  by  my  side  that  day 
when  with  drawn  sword  I  held  the  door 
against  Rodolph  and  his  followers  — 
Mr.  Lambert  Wilmer  of  the  White 
House  in   Kent. 

He  came  forward  and  greeted  me 
with  many  kind  phrases.  While  he 
sat  talking  to  me  of  the  duel  and  its 
cause,  I  thought  of  that  great  burst  of 
laughter  when  he  told  Rodolph  to  put 
up  his  sword,  as  by  this  time  he  should 
have  had  enough  of  Gordon  of  the 
Braes,  and  I  asked  the  reason  for  it 
all. 

"  It  is  a  long  story,  lad,"  said  he, 
"  but   I   will   tell  it  to  you." 

Then  he  told  me  how,  many  years 
before.  Mistress  Margaret  Nicholson 
had  been  the  loveliest  girl  in  Kent,  and 
the  belle  of  the  whole  shore,  and  how 


A  Tale  is  Told  63 

there  was  not  a  bachelor  within  three 
counties  who  did  not  seek  her  as  his 
bride,  or  who  would  not  have  sold  his 
soul  for  a  glance  of  her  eyes  or  the  soft 
pressure  of  her  hand  ;  and  how  when 
James  Rodolph  of  Charlestown  Hun- 
dred came  riding  down  from  Cecil  and 
boasted  of  his  wealth,  his  horses,  and 
his  slaves,  swearing  that  he  would  win 
her  or  no  one  would,  the  suitors  stood 
aside  to  see  how  he  would  fare  with 
this  the  proudest  of  Kent  beauties.  To 
their  dismay,  he  seemed  to  prosper 
well,  until  one  day  there  disembarked 
from  a  vessel  that  came  sailing  up  the 
broad  Chester  a  young  gentleman  of 
distinguished  appearance,  who  asked 
his  way  to  Radcliffe,  the  home  of  the 
Nicholsons. 

"  Now,  the  Nicholsons,  as  you 
know,"  said  Mr.  Wilmer,  "  are  Scotch, 
and  this  young  gentleman  was  Scotch, 
for  his   accent  betrayed  him,    and  we, 


64  The  Tory  Maid 

thinking  he  might  be  a  cousin  and  have 
brought  news  from  over  the  water,  wel- 
comed him,  and  showed  him  the  way 
to  RadcHffe.  He,  though  he  wa3  very 
reserved,  told  us  that  he  had  indeed 
come  from  over  the  sea,  and  bore  a  let- 
ter to  the  Nicholsons,  who  were  old 
friends  of  his  family,  but  of  himself  he 
would  say  no  more.  And  so,  when  he 
strode  off,  we  turned  to  Captain  Heze- 
kiah  Brown  of  the  Maid  of  Perth,  who 
was  a  man  who  delighted  to  talk.  From 
him  we  learned  that  his  name  was  Gor- 
don, and  that  there  was  a  mystery  about 
him,  as  people  suspected  him  of  being 
one  of  the  young  chiefs  who  had  led 
that  famous  clan  in  the  recent  rebellion 
against  the  King.  But  this  we  held 
not  to  his  injury,  for  there  were  still 
many  lovers  of  the  White  Rose  in  the 
fair  province  of  Maryland,  and  we 
afterward  welcomed  him  the  more 
heartily   for   it.      From    the   advent  of 


A  Tale  is  Told  65 

the  stranger  the  good  fortune  of  James 
Rodolph  began  to  wane ;  for  the  rich 
planter  of  the  border,  with  his  wild  and 
boisterous  manners,  was  no  match  for 
the  Scottish  cavaHer.  It  is  true  that 
he  was  penniless,  but  he  was  very  hand- 
some, of  distinguished  manners  and  ad- 
dress, and  when  it  became  known  that 
he  was  out  in  '  forty-five  '  the  mantle 
of  romance  that  fell  around  Prince 
Charles  was  shared  as  well  by  him,  and 
he  became  the  hero  of  many  a  pair  of 
fair  eyes. 

"  James  Rodolph  soon  saw  this,  and 
his  hatred  grew  from  day  to  day,  as  his 
rival  became  more  successful.  One  day 
there  was  a  quarrel,  and  next  morning, 
upon  the  smooth,  sandy  shore  of  the 
river,  they  met  and  fought  it  out. 
Rodolph  was  fiery,  quick,  and  fierce  ; 
Gordon  cool  and  steady  ;  until  Rodolph, 
growing  weary  and  desperate,  tried  a  foul 
and  dangerous  stroke,  to  find  his  rapier 
5 


66  The  Tory  Maid 

flying  through  the  air,  to  fall  with  a 
splash  into  the  river. 

"  ^  I  would  not  stain  my  blade  by 
killing  you/  said  Gordon ;  and  turning 
with  the  other  gentlemen  who  had  seen 
the  foul  stroke,  he  walked  away,  leav- 
ing him  there. 

"  And  so  it  was  that  Rodolph  came 
back  to  Cecil  with  a  blot  upon  his  name, 
and  Gordon  married  the  maid,  and  be- 
came in  time  the  owner  of  the  Braes, 
for  she  was  an  heiress  as  well  as  a  great 
beauty.  From  that  time  has  grown  the 
feud  which  we  may  some  day  see  the 
end  of.  And  that  is  why  the  people 
laughed  and  Rodolph  slunk  away.  For 
the  old  story  is  known  throughout  the 
shore,  and  Rodolph  proved,  in  his 
fight  with  you,  the  bad  blood  in  his 
veins.  It  never  does  to  cross  the  white 
blood  with  the  red,  for  the  treachery 
of  the  Indian  will  taint  the  race  for 
generations." 


A  Tale  is  Told  67 

Thus  it  was,  by  the  light  of  this  old 
tale  of  thirty  years  before,  I  saw  and 
read  the  cause  and  reason  of  it  all  —  of 
his  fatal  course,  of  our  quarrel,  and  of 
the  meeting  by  the  banks  of  the  river 
Elk. 


CHAPTER   VII 

THE    DEFIANCE    OF    THE    TORY 

A  FEW  weeks  later  I  was  up  and  out, 
fast  gaining  strength  and  courage  for 
the  long  ride  to  the  northward  to  join 
the  gallant  fellows  of  the  Maryland 
Line,  who  had  taken  up  their  line  of 
march  soon  after  the  accident  befell  me. 
And  though  I  was  eager  to  be  off,  the 
surgeon  would  not  let  me  go,  and  so, 
until  I  could  gather  strength  for  the 
long  journey,  I  served  as  best  I  could 
my  country  and  the  commands  of  the 
Committee  of  Public  Safety  sitting  at 
the  Head  of  Elk.  Thus  it  was  I  rode 
one  day  by  the  side  of  Edward  Veasey, 
High  Sheriff  of  the  county  of  Cecil, 
carrying  the  writ  and  command  of  the 
Committee  of  Public  Safety  to  Charles 


The  Defiance  of  the  Tory      69 

Gordon  of  the  Braes,  now  a  suspected 
Tory  and  a  malcontent.  And  as  I  rode 
by  the  side  of  the  High  Sheriff  on  this 
most  unpleasant  task,  I  longed  to  turn 
back  and  let  the  Sheriff  ride  on  alone ; 
but  duty  held  me  as  a  point  of  honour. 
For  as  it  was,  I  was  carrying  I  knew 
not  what  ruin  and  destruction  to  the 
roof  of  the  very  house  that  once  had 
received  me  as  a  guest  and  that  sheltered 
the  fairest  eyes  that  had  ever  gazed  in 
mine.  And  now  I  was  to  appear  before 
that  house  as  the  bearer  of  ill-tidings. 
Ah,  duty  often  wears  a  gruesome  coun- 
tenance ;  yet  it  is  a  sign  of  courage  to 
face  this  duty  down,  and  I  sat  more 
firmly  in  my  saddle  and  rode  nearer  to 
the  High  Sheriff.  He  was  a  stern  and 
determined  man  ;  he  was  short  of  stat- 
ure, stout  of  frame,  and  sat  his  powerful 
horse  like  the  fox-hunter  that  he  was. 
But,  though  it  was  the  height  of  sum- 
mer, and  the  hills  and  the  forests  were 


yo  The  Tory  Maid 

green,  the  air  laden  with  the  odour  of 
flowers,  and  the  streams  full  and  rush- 
ing, there  was  anything  but  a  smile  on 
the  High  Sheriff's  face.  For  though 
he  was  no  friend  to  Gordon  of  the 
Braes,  he  liked  not  the  errand  on  which 
he  rode,  and  would  gladly  have  turned 
his  horse's  head  with  me. 

"  If  they  want  to  iight,"  said  he  to 
me,  "why  don't  they  join  the  Maryland 
Line  and  leave  men  alone  who  are  dis- 
posed to  be  quiet  ?  They  will  have 
enough  to  do  in  repulsing  the  redcoats, 
and  should  not  stir  up  opposition  in  the 
rear  of  our  armies,  which  this  persecu- 
tion of  private  individuals  will  certainly 
do.  I  wish  some  other  carried  this 
writ,  and  I  was  with  the  lads  fighting 
in   the  North." 

"  Aye,  so  do  I,  but  It  is  the  order  of 
the  committee,"  said  I  grimly. 

"  True,  and  as  such  must  be  obeyed.** 

We    had    come    to    where   the   ferry 


The  Defiance  of  the  Tory      71 

crosses  the  Elk,  and  hailing  it  we  were 
soon  on  the  south  bank  and  taking  up 
again  the  road  that  leads  to  the  Braes. 
Over  the  hills  and  dales  of  Cecil,  the 
forest,  streams,  and  rivers,  the  soft  warm 
sunlight  played,  and  nature  blessed 
with  lavish  hand  the  harvest  of  the 
year.  Seldom  had  she  been  more 
pleasing,  the  earth  bursting  with  flow- 
ers and  the  very  trees  welcoming  with 
outstretched  arms  the  soft  breezes  wafted 
from  the  bay.  And  then,  after  some 
hours'  travelling,  we  came  to  the  Braes 
and  I  saw  again  the  long  rambling 
house  amid  the  trees.  I  took  a  firmer 
grip  upon  my  sense  of  duty  and  rode 
on.  The  clatter  of  our  horses'  hoofs  as 
we  rode  up  to  the  door  announced  us. 
A  moment  later  Charles  Gordon  came 
through  the  open  doorway  on  to  the 
porch.  Though  I  had  seen  him  before, 
it  seemed  to  me,  as  I  saw  him  standing 
there,  with  the  memory  of  the  old  tale 


72  The  Tory  Maid 

in  my  mind,  that  I  saw  not  the  Tory, 
but  one  of  those  figures  of  romance  that 
stepped  out  from  the  mystery  and  the 
haze  of  the  North,  when  Prince  Charles 
raised  his  standard  in  the  Highlands, 
one  of  those  heroic  men  who  drew 
swords  with  Wallace  and  with  Bruce, 
rallied  with  Montrose,  and  went  to 
death  with  a  cheer  behind  Bonnie 
Dundee  at  Killiecrankie,  of  such  gallant 
bearing  and  bold  and  open  countenance 
was  he. 

"  What  brings  you  here,  Mr.  Sheriff, 
riding  so  fast  ?  " 

"  I  come,  Charles  Gordon  of  the 
Braes,"  replied  the  Sheriff,  "  to  serve 
on  you  the  writ  and  summons  of  the 
Committee  of  Public  Safety."  And 
here  he  unfolded  the  summons  and  read 
aloud,  sitting  on   his   horse  as   he  was  : 

"  JVhereas^  Great  complaints  have  this  day 
been  made  against  Charles  Gordon  of  the 
Braes,  for  that  he  has  infamously  reflected  on 


The  Defiance  of  the  Tory     73 

the  membership  of  this  Committee  and  the 
deputies  of  this  county  who  lately  attended 
the  Provincial   Convention, 

"These  are  therefore  requiring  the  said 
Charles  Gordon  of  the  Braes  that  he  appear 
before  this  Committee,  at  the  house  of  Thomas 
Savin  at  the  Head  of  Elk,  to-morrow  at  two 
o'clock  P.M.,  to  answer  unto  said  complaints. 

"  Hereto  fail  not  on  your  peril. 

"James  Rodolph,  Chairman. 
<'To   Charles  Gordon  of  the  Braes.'' 

Then  spoke  Charles  Gordon  : 
"Go  tell  those  who  sent  you,  Mr. 
Sheriff,  that  if  they  wish  to  see  Charles 
Gordon  they  will  have  to  come  to  the 
Braes  to  do  so  ;  that  I  will  give  them  a 
right  warm  welcome,  as  my  plantation 
is  large  enough  to  hold  them  all  ;  but 
that  if  any  of  their  rascally  crew  dare  to 
approach  the  house,  there  will  be  lives 
lost ;  for  I  say  to  you,  Mr.  Sheriff,  as  I 
have  said  before  and  will  say  again,  that 
James  Rodolph  and  his  committee  are 


74  The  Tory  Maid 

a  set  of  infamous  scoundrels,  who  have 
usurped  such  power  and  authority  in 
troublous  times  as  the  King  himself 
would  not  dare  to  claim.  Tell  them 
that  I  am  at  their  defiance,  that  I  do 
not  recognise  their  authority,  and  that 
I  have  as  much  contempt  for  them  as  I 
have  for  their  dogs." 

The  old  gentleman,  for  he  must  have 
been  nearly  sixty,  looked  splendid  in 
his  wrath,  as  he  denounced  the  Com- 
mittee of  Public  Safety.  The  ring  in 
his  voice  told  that  the  ire  of  the  Scot 
was  rising. 

For  an  instant  the  High  Sheriff  hesi- 
tated, as  if  he  would  turn  and  go,  but 
then  he  said  : 

"  Charles  Gordon,  I  spoke  to  you  a 
moment  ago  as  an  officer  of  the  law.  I 
speak  to  you  now  as  one  who  does  not 
wish  you  an  injury.  Obey  the  order 
of  the  committee,  and  I  will  see  that 
you  have  fair  speech  before  it.      Refuse 


The  Defiance  of  the  Tory     75 

and  you  will  be  declared  a  traitor  and 
an  outlaw,  and  the  edict  will  go  forth 
through  all  the  province  that  no  man 
shall  buy  of  you,  that  no  man  shall  sell 
to  you,  and  he  that  shows  you  kindness 
will  become  an  outlaw  like  yourself" 

Charles  Gordon  laughed. 

"Do  you  think  I  care  a  snap  of  a 
finger  for  their  edict  ?  There  has  not 
been  a  generation  of  my  family  that 
has  not  been  at  the  Horn  at  Edinburgh 
for  high  treason.  Do  you  think  that  I 
care  when  my  neck  has  been  on  the 
block  for  the  part  I  took  at  Preston 
Pans  and  CuUoden  ?  Go  frighten  the 
children  with  their  edicts,  but  not  an 
old  Scot  who  has  seen  the  claymores 
flash  and  led  the  charge  for  the  King 
who  is  over  the  sea." 

"If  you  fought  against  the  father, 
why  not  against  the  son  ?  " 

"  A  fair  question  deserves  a  fair  an- 
swer.   When  my  head  was  on  the  block 


76  The  Tory  Maid 

my  life  was  saved  by  the  intercession  of 
the  Duchess  of  Gordon,  but  upon  con- 
ditions, and  those  conditions  are  these : 
That  I  should  nevermore  bear  arms 
against  the  King,  that  I  should  leave 
the  realm  of  Scotland,  sail  across  the 
sea  to  the  province  of  Maryland,  there 
remain  and  never  return.  So,  though 
I  love  not  the  King  nor  his  race,  I  will 
not  draw  sword  against  him,  for  never 
yet  has  a  Gordon  broken  faith  with 
friend  or  foe.  Yet  for  all  that  I  will 
not  take  up  arms  for  the  King's  cause 
unless  I  am  forced  to  do  so  by  such 
rascals  as  compose  your  Committee  of 
Public  Safety." 

"  So  be  it,  then,  but  I  wish  it  were 
otherwise,"  said  the  Sheriff;  and,  turn- 
ing, we  rode  away,  leaving  him  standing 
there.  As  I  entered  the  woods  I 
looked  back  again,  my  eyes  searching 
every  window  in  the  old  house,  but 
never  a  sio^n  of  the  Tory  maid  did  I  see. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

THE    BLACK    COCKADE 

It  was  two  o'clock  next  day  when  we 
rode  up  to  the  house  where  the  Com- 
mittee of  Public  Safety  held  its  meet- 
ings, dismounted,  and  entered  the  room. 
Six  gentlemen  sat  at  the  long  table,  and 
the  room  was  crowded  with  hangers-on. 
They  were  men  who  stayed  behind 
while  the  others  went  to  the  war  ;  they 
fought  the  fight  with  their  tongues, 
with  writs  of  forfeiture  for  high  treason, 
became  great  statesmen,  and  in  time 
aspired  to  become  members  of  the  com- 
mittee. How  the  worthy  High  Sheriff 
regarded  them  could  be  seen  by  the 
manner  in  which  he  brushed  past  them 
to  stand  before  the  committee. 


78  The  Tory  Maid 

"  What  right  have  you  to  talk  of 
liberty  and  of  freedom,  if  you  will  not 
iight  for  it  ?  Why  are  you  not  with 
Howard,  Gist,  Smallwood,  and  the 
other  heroes  who  are  making  the  name 
of  the  Maryland  Line  ring  through  the 
army  ?  "  he  would  ask,  and  they  would 
turn  away. 

The  burly  form  and  dark,  swarthy 
face  of  the  Chairman  dominated  the 
committee.  As  we  entered  and  stood 
before   him  his  dark  eyes  flashed. 

"  Do  you  bring  the  body  of  Charles 
Gordon  with  you  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  No ;  I  do  not.  I  bring  his  defi- 
ance, instead;"  and  the  High  Sheriff 
delivered  the  message  of  Charles  Gor- 
don to  the  committee. 

The  committee  glanced  from  one  to 
another,  and  there  was  a  big  stir  in  the 
room.  Then  the  Chairman  was  on  his 
feet. 

"  By  a  thousand  devils,"   he  swore, 


The  Black  Cockade  79 

"  Charles  Gordon  shall  suffer  for  this. 
I  will  not  stop  until  the  Braes  is  razed 
to  the  ground,  and  I  have  driven  him 
from  the  province.  He  is  a  Tory  and 
a  traitor,  and  a  danger  to  the  peace  of 
the  county.  He  will  be  up  in  arms 
next,  Mr.  Sheriff,  summon  a  posse 
and  ride  to  the  Braes  and  bring  us  the 
body  of  Charles  Gordon,  dead  or 
alive." 

"  You  will  not  accept  the  invitation 
to  go  to  the  Braes  yourself,  then  ?  " 
asked  the  High  Sheriff  gravely,  though 
there  was  the  suggestion  of  a  smile 
around  the   corners   of  his  mouth. 

The  Chairman  hesitated.  "  No," 
he  said  ;  "  it  is  absolutely  necessary  for 
the  welfare  of  the  county  of  Cecil  that 
we  should  remain  where  we  are  and  not 
engage  in  any  brawls  or  tumults,  for  if 
we  are  killed  who  will  take  our  places  ^  '* 

"That  is  true,"  said  the  High 
Sheriff  ironically,  "  but  have  you   con- 


8o  The  Tory  Maid 

sidered,  gentlemen,  that  Charles  Gor- 
don's wife  was  of  the  Nicholsons  of 
Kent,  who,  as  you  know,  are  the  leaders 
of  the  patriots  in  that  county  ?  How 
will  they  like  it  when  they  hear  of  vour 
burnings  and  your  razings  ?  " 

The  Chairman  frowned.  "  You  are 
right,"  he  said ;  "  we  must  proceed 
about  it  in  a  legal  way,  which  is  slow 
but  sure.  Mr.  Clerk,  institute  pro- 
ceedings against  Charles  Gordon  for 
the  forfeiture  of  his  lands  for  high  trea- 
son, and  meanwhile  we  will  publish 
him  throughout  the  province  as  a  Tory 
and  a  traitor.  We  will  teach  this 
Charles  Gordon  and  all  Tories  what 
it  means  to  contemn  the  authority 
and  dignity  of  this  province  and  its 
committee." 

And  then  applause  broke  out  from 
the  crowd  ;  but  the  High  Sheriff,  who 
left  the  room  with  me,  shrugged  his 
shoulders  and  said:  "  If  they  had  half 


The  Black  Cockade  8  i 

of  the  courage  of  that  Scot  they  would 
not  be  loafing  around  here,  applauding 
James  Rodolph.  I  am  tired  of  it;  I 
am  going  to  resign  and  go  to  the  front." 
He  was  as  good  as  his  word,  for  that 
very  day  he  resigned  the  office  of  High 
Sheriff  of  the  county  of  Cecil,  packed 
his  saddle-bags,  gathered  some  volun- 
teers about  him,  and  rode  away  to  the 
North,  becoming  in  time  a  noted  offi- 
cer. But  it  was  not  until  the  month  of 
August  of  that  year  that  I  was  ready  to 
follow  him  and  felt  equal  to  the  length 
of  the  journey.  On  the  night  of  the 
day  before  I  took  my  departure  I  called 
John  Cotton  and  ordered  him  to  saddle 
Toby. 

John  Cotton  received  the  order  with 
wide-open  eyes,  as  it  was  growing  some- 
what late. 

"  Fo*  de  Lord's  sake,  Mars  Jim,  what 
do  you  want  Toby  fo'  ^  It's  after  ten 
o'clock.'* 

6 


82  The  Tory  Maid 

"Ask  no  questions,  you  black  rascal, 
and  bring  Toby  around  in  a  hurry." 

Then  his  eyes  fell  on  a  cluster  of  red 
roses  on  my  table,  and  a  broad  grin 
crept  from  ear  to  ear. 

"  Sartin,  Mars  Jim,  sartin  ;  "  and  he 
was  out  of  the  door  before  my  flying 
boot  could  repay  the  impertinence  of 
that  grin.  A  few  minutes  later  I 
slipped  out  of  the  house  to  the  stables, 
and,  mounting  Toby,  was  soon  riding 
out  of  the  silent  town,  having  hit  that 
rascal  John  Cotton  across  the  shoulders 
with  my  whip  for  the  snickering  laugh 
he  could  not  restrain  as  I  was  riding  off. 

Have  you  ever  ridden  by  the  silent 
river  after  the  night  has  fallen,  and 
when  it  is  far  advanced  ?  The  great 
trees,  rising  far  above  you  like  the 
vaulted  arch  of  a  cathedral,  overhang- 
ing the  path  down  which  you  ride ;  the 
smooth  flowing  waters  of  the  river,  the 
towering  dark  mass  on  the  farther  shore. 


The  Black  Cockade  83 

and  over  all  the  glorious  moon  shining 
down  flooding  everything  with  its  sil- 
very light,  weird  and  fantastic,  glinting 
now  Uke  polished  steel  upon  the  waters, 
now  deepening  the  shadows  of  the 
forest,  or  flooding  again  with  its  glori- 
ous radiance  some  wide  and  sweeping 
stretch  of  water.  And  then,  the  un- 
earthly silence  of  it  all,  the  mournful 
howl  of  the  wolf  in  the  hills,  and  the 
piercing  shrill  cry  of  the  wildcat,  like 
that  of  a  child  tortured  by  the  demons 
of  hell ;  then  the  horror  of  its  beauty, 
its  stillness  and  its  loneliness,  comes 
over  you ;  nervous  chills  become  dis- 
tinctly apparent,  and  you  put  spurs  to 
your  horse  and  ride  on  more  rapidly, 
and  the  night  is  broken  first  by  your 
whistle  and  then  by  your  song.  So  it 
was,  as  I  rode  by  the  banks  of  the  Elk, 
that  night  in  early  August,  and  my 
voice  rang  across  the  waters,  as  I  sang 
the  old  Highland  ballad : 


84  The  Tory  Maid 

The  Gordons  cam',  and  the  Gordons  ran. 
And  they  were  stark  and  steady. 
And  aye  the  word  among  them  a' 
Was,  Gordons,  keep  you  ready. 

A  ballad  that  I  heard  a  young  girl 
sing  one  day  not  long  before.  Thus 
the  length  of  my  ride  passed  quickly 
away  until  Toby  felt  the  soft  grass 
under  his  feet  as  I  rode  silently  across 
the  lawn.  Her  window  was  high,  it  is 
true,  but  it  was  open  to  admit  the 
fresh,  cool  breeze  from  the  bay,  and 
then  I  had  not  thrown  quoits  in  my 
youth  not  to  be  able  to  surmount  so 
small  a  difficulty.  So  I  fastened  a 
black  cockade  amid  the  blood-red  of 
the  roses,  and,  rising  in  my  stirrups, 
threw  them  firmly  and  gently,  and  saw 
them  rise  in  the  air,  top  the  window- 
sill,  and  fall  with  a  slight  thud  upon 
the  floor.  I  did  not  wait  for  more, 
but  turned  and  rode  away ;  but  it 
seemed    to   me    that    as    I    gained   the 


The  Black  Cockade  85 

shadow  of  the  forest  and  looked  back  I 
saw  the  faint  suggestion  of  a  girHsh 
form  standing  at  the  open  window.  I 
looked  once  again  and  rode  on. 

When  morning  came,  I  bade  good-bye 
to  my  mother,  mounted  my  black  colt 
Toby,  and  rode  away  to  join  the  Mary- 
land Line,  which  was  marching  now 
from  Boston,  to  meet  the  British  before 
New  York.  As  that  day  I  crossed  the 
line  into  the  province  of  Delaware,  I 
saw  nailed  to  a  great  oak  the  proclama- 
tion of  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety, 
denouncing  Charles  Gordon  as  a  Tory 
and  a  traitor,  and  calling  upon  all  per- 
sons to  have  no  dealings  with  him, 
either  in  public  or  private,  at  their  peril. 
And  thus  it  was  at  every  cross-roads 
in  the  county  of  Cecil,  and  in  all  the 
counties  to  the  south  and  west,  the 
edict  had  gone  forth. 

Now  in  Maryland,  as  I  have  said 
before,  we  love,  above  all   else,  courage 


86  The  Tory  Maid 

in  a  man,  and  so  I  rode  under  the  oak, 
and  tore  down  the  proclamation,  for  I 
knew  the  courage  of  Charles  Gordon, 
Tory  though  he  was.  I  knew  also  that 
the  proceedings  of  forfeiture  had  been 
instituted  against  him  in  the  High 
Court  of  the  Province,  and  that  ere  I 
set  foot  on  the  soil  of  Maryland  again, 
he  would  be  driven  from  the  province, 
and  it  was  for  this  that  I  paid  this 
courtesy  to  the  courage  of  an  enemy, 
as  I  left  my  native  plains  behind  me. 

It  was  a  long  road  for  a  lad,  but  the 
people  received  me  with  open  arms  and 
urged  me  on  when  I  told  them  whither 
I  was  riding.  After  several  days  of 
travelling  along  the  shore  of  the  Dela- 
ware and  across  the  low-lying  plains  of 
New  Jersey,  I  came  to  the  banks  of 
the  Hudson,  and  saw  across  the  water 
the  great  city  of  New  York,  its  cluster- 
ing houses  and  steeples.  And  then  it 
was  not  long  before  I  was  on  the  ferry 


The  Black  Cockade  87 

that  conveyed  me  across  the  river,  and 
heard  the  sharp  ring  of  the  pavement 
under  my  horse's  feet  as  I  rode  toward 
the  great  common  where  lay  the  en- 
campment of  the  troops.  It  was  near 
twelve  o'clock  when  I  came  to  the  camp 
of  the  patriots  and  asked  my  way  of 
an  officer  to  the  quarters  of  the  Mary- 
land Line. 

"  You  must  be  a  stranger,"  he  said, 
"  or  you  would  know  that  the  Maryland 
Line  always  has  the  place  of  honour  in 
the  camp  ;  "  and  he  showed  me  where 
their  quarters  lay. 

I  felt  aglow  with  pride  when  I  heard 
this  tribute  to  my  countrymen.  I 
thanked  him  and  rode  on.  A  few 
minutes  later  I  was  among  them.  The 
great  voice  of  the  Captain  was  giving 
me  greeting ;  Dick  Ringgold's  hand 
was  on  my  shoulder,  as  he  took  charge 
of  me ;  and  many  of  my  kith  and  kin, 
old  friends  and  neighbours  who  belonged 


88  The  Tory  Maid 

to  that  famous  corps,  came  forward  to 
greet  and  welcome  me  to  the  camp. 
Thus,  after  many  days  of  sickness  and 
of  travel,  I  took  my  place  among  the 
men  who  were  about  to  face  the  great 
storm.  True,  at  the  time  quiet  reigned 
all  along  our  front,  which  lay  over  be- 
yond the  heights  of  Brooklyn  ;  but  hot 
work  was  soon  expected,  as  the  British 
fleet  had  been  seen  in  the  offing,  and  it 
was  only  a  question  of  time  when  the 
army  would  be  landed  and  the  attack 
begun. 


CHAPTER   IX 

THE    RED    TIDE    OF    BLOOD 

Spruce  Macaronies,  and  pretty  to  see. 
Tidy  and  dapper  and  gallant  were  we  ; 
Blooded,  fine  gentlemen,  proper  and  tall. 
Bold  in  a  fox-hunt  and  gay  at  a  ball ; 

Tralara  !   Tralara  !    now  praise  we  the  Lord, 
For  the  clang  of  His  call  and  the  flash  of  His  sword. 
Tralara  !    Tralara  !   now  forward  to  die  ; 
For    the    banner,    hurrah  !     and    for    sweethearts, 
good-bye  !  John  Williamson  Palmer. 

It  was  on  the  22d  day  of  August 
that  the  rumour  flew  through  the  camp 
that  the  enemy  had  landed  and  was 
preparing  to  attack.  But  the  hours 
flew  by,  and  still  no  orders  came,  until 
the  Line  became  restless,  and  the  fear 
grew  that  the  flght  would  begin  before 
we  could  reach  the  field  of  battle.     The 


90  The  Tory  Maid 

sun  began  to  sink  over  the  Heights  of 
Harlem  when  an  aide  rode  into  our 
Hnes.  It  was  Tench  Tilghman,  who 
swung  his  hat  and  shouted  as  he  went 
by  :  "  You  will  have  warm  work  in  a 
day  or  two,  boys  !  " 

We  gave  him  a  yell  in  reply,  and 
started  with  renewed  interest  the  prep- 
arations for  the  coming  fight.  A  few 
minutes  later  came  the  orders  that  we 
were  to  march  at  dawn.  The  men 
received  the  news  joyfully,  and  it  was 
wonderful  to  see  the  change  in  their 
bearing ;  for  while  the  doubt  hung 
over  them,  they  were  restless  and 
murmuring  was  heard  all  through  the 
camp ;  but  now  all  was  laughter  and 
gaiety.  They  prepared  for  the  fight  as 
one  would  prepare  for  the  next  county 
ball  or  a  fox-hunt  on  the  morrow. 

The  stirring  notes  of  the  bugle  ring- 
ing over  the  camp  brought  me  to  my 
feet  with  a  bound,  and  I  looked  out  of 


The  Red  Tide  of  Blood      91 

the  tent  to  see  a  heavy  mist  over  every- 
thing, and  hear  the  sound  of  men's 
voices  coming  through  it  all  around 
me.  It  does  not  take  a  soldier  long 
to  don  his  uniform,  and  I  was  soon  out 
attending  to  my  duties.  At  seven 
o'clock  we  were  on  our  march  to  the 
ferry,  crossing  the  East  River  at  the 
foot  of  the  main  street  of  the  small 
town  of  Brooklyn ;  then  we  took  a 
road  leading  over  a  creek  called  Gowa- 
nus,  and  knew  that  we  were  marching 
to  guard  the  right  of  the  American 
line.  Low-lying  hills,  heavily  wooded, 
lay  before  us ;  it  was  in  these  woods 
that  our  line  was  called  to  a  halt,  and 
we  took  up  our  position  for  the  bat- 
tle. We  lay  there  several  days,  with 
constant  rumours  flying  through  the 
camp  of  the  enemy's  advance,  but  yet 
they  would   not  come. 

It  was  on   the  morning  of  the  27th 
of  August  that  the  great  battle  of  Long 


92  The  Tory  Maid 

Island,  so  disastrous  for  the  patriot 
forces,  broke  upon  us.  The  scattering 
shots  of  the  skirmishers  first  made  us 
spring  to  arms ;  then  the  sharp  rattle 
of  the  musketry  of  Atlee's  men  and 
the  boom  of  Carpenter's  cannon  on  our 
immediate  right  told  that  the  enemy 
was  pushing  them  hard.  Then  through 
the  forest  trees  came  the  line  of  the 
British  advance.  The  fire  extended 
along  our  whole  front,  while  far  over 
•to  our  left  came  the  distant  roar  of 
cannon  and  musketry. 

"  They  are  having  a  hot  time  over 
there,"  said  Dick,  "  but  why  don't 
these  fellows  charge  us  .^  " 

"  They  will  charge  us  soon  enough," 
I  replied.  But  it  seemed  as  if  they 
never  would,  for  what  promised  to  be 
an  attack  along  our  whole  line  dwin- 
dled down  to  a  mere  exchange  of  shots. 
Hour  after  hour  went  by,  and  yet  they 
never  advanced   beyond  a  certain   point 


The  Red  Tide  of  Blood      93 

except  when  a  company  or  so  would 
dash  forward  and  a  sharp  skirmish  would 
break  forth  for  a  moment  or  two,  and 
then  die  away  again.  But  far  over  to 
our  left  the  sound  of  the  battle  came 
rolling  nearer  and  nearer,  telling  the 
tale  of  Sullivan's  men   being  driven  in. 

"  I  do  not  like  that,"  said  Dick. 
"  They  are  doing  all  the  fighting,  while 
we  are  merelv  exchanging  courtesies 
with  our  friends  six  hundred  yards 
away.      Hello  !     There  comes   news." 

I  looked  behind  us  to  a  small  hill, 
where  Lord  Stirling  stood  with  his  staff, 
and  saw  Tench  Tilghman   riding  up  at 

full  speed.     There  was  a  hurried  move- 

i. 

ment  among  the  staff,  and  Stirling's 
glasses  swept  the  country  to  our  left 
and  rear.  A  moment  later  an  order 
was  given  and  the  aides  came  dashing 
down  our  lines,  and  then,  to  our  dis- 
gust, came  the  order  to  retire. 

"  Retreat !  "    cried  one   of  the  men. 


94  The  Tory  Maid 

"  Why,    we     have  n't   begun    to    fight 
yet !  "' 

"  Steady,  men,"  cried  Captain  Ram- 
say ;  "  you  form  the  rear  guard  and 
must  hold  the  enemy  in  check,"  for 
they  were  beginning  to  advance  as  the 
regiments  on  each  side  of  us  withdrew. 
Then  we  began  slowly  to  withdraw,  but 
there  came  an  aide  riding  swiftly  to 
Major  Gist.  Pennsylvania  and  Dela- 
ware regiments  took  our  place  in  the 
rear,  and  we  were  marched  rapidly  to 
the  front.  The  heavy  woods  had  here- 
tofore prevented  our  seeing  what  was 
taking  place,  but  now  that  we  had 
come  out  to  the  opening  a  wild  scene 
of  terror  and  dismay  lay  before  us. 
Gowanus  Creek,  deep  and  unfordable, 
with  its  sullen  tide  rising  fast,  lav 
like  a  great  ugly  serpent  across  our 
path,  while  over  the  meadow  and  far  in 
our  front  the  broken  streams  of  fugi- 
tives were  swarming,  flying  toward  the 


The  Red  Tide  of  Blood       95 

bridge  at  the  mill,  the  only  hope  of  cross- 
ing Gowanus  Creek.  And  as  I  looked, 
to  my  horror,  the  mill  and  the  bridge 
burst  into  flames,  catching  the  routed 
army  as  it  were  between  the  rising  tide 
and  the  advancing  legions  of  the  victo- 
rious English.  Then,  as  we  watched 
it,  a  rumour  grew  and  spread  through 
the  ranks,  as  such  things  will  in  battle, 
that  a  New  England  Colonel  had  fired 
the  bridge  to  save  himself  and  his  regi- 
ment. How  we  cursed  New  England 
then,  and  swore  that  if  we  ever  escaped 
we  would  have  our  reckoning  with  her 
and  her  people. 

"  There  they  come!"  cried  Dick  at 
my  side,  pointing  to  where  a  large 
stone  house  crowned  a  hill  immediately 
in  the  rear  and  commanded  the  whole 
field  of  the  terror-stricken  fugitives. 

I  saw  the  brilliant  scarlet  of  their 
coats  as  they  took  possession  of  the 
hill  and  prepared  to  open  fire. 


96  The  Tory  Maid 

"  They  will  have  to  be  driven  from 
there  or  we  are  lost,"  I  answered. 

Then,  as  the  prospect  looked  the 
darkest  and  the  long  line  of  the  British 
formed  to  make  their  last  advance, 
Lord   Stirling  rode  up  to  our  line, 

"  Men  of  Maryland  !  "  he  shouted, 
"  charge  that  hill,  hold  Cornwallis  in 
check  and  save  the  army  !  " 

We  answered  with  a  yell,  as  he 
sprang   from   his   horse  to   lead  us. 

Ah,  I  shall  never  forget  the  pride 
with  which  we  stepped  out  of  the  mass 
of  flying  fugitives,  four  hundred  Mary- 
landers,  the  greatest  dandies  and  bluest 
blood  in  all  the  army,  for  this,  the 
proudest  service  of  the  day.  We 
formed  for  the  charge  as  if  on  the  drill 
ground  ;  our  evolutions  and  lines  were 
perfect,  and  would  have  done  credit 
to  the  grenadiers  of  the  later  empire. 
Stirling's  sword  was  in  the  air,  the 
drums  were   beating  the  charge,  when 


The  Red  Tide  of  Blood       97 

there  broke  from  the  throats  of  our 
Marylanders  the  wild,  thrilling  yell  of 
the  southern  provinces,  and  we  leaped 
to  the  charge  up  the  long  hill,  straight 
into  the  face  of  Cornwallis's  army,  a 
handful  against  thousands.  Up,  up  the 
hill  we  dashed.  A  fire  as  of  hell  broke 
upon  us  and  rattled  and  roared  about 
our  ears,  thinning  our  ranks  and  strew- 
ing our  pathway  with  the  dead.  Men 
fell  to  the  right  and  to  the  left  of  me, 
and  I  strode  across  the  bodies  of  the 
slain  in  my  path ;  but  still,  over  the 
roar  of  the  cannon  and  the  rattle  of 
musketry,  high  and  shrill  rose  the  yell 
of  the  charging  line.  We  swept  up 
the  hill,  the  crest  was  gained,  and  the 
British  fell  back  before  us,  when  we 
were  met  by  a  sheet  of  flame,  a  storm 
of  lead  and  smoke  and  fire.  We  were 
raised  as  it  were  in  the  air  and  held 
there  gasping  for  breath,  and  then  we 
were  swept  back  down  the  hill,  strug- 
7 


98  The  Tory  Maid 

gling  desperately  to  gain  a  foothold  to 
make  a  stand. 

Again  we  saw  Stirling  glance  over 
the  meadow  and  the  marsh  behind  us 
as  we  re-formed  our  line.  His  voice 
came  ringing  down  our  ranks. 

"  Once  again,  men  of  Maryland." 

Once  again  !  Aye,  we  knew  how  to 
answer  that  call,  for  the  bodies  of  our 
comrades  lay  dotting  the  long  hillside. 

"  Once  again,  and  charge  home  !  " 
cried  Ramsay. 

We  sprang  to  the  charge,  and  wilder, 
shriller,  fiercer,  more  terrible,  rose  the 
yell  —  the  yell  of  vengeance  that  seemed 
to  pick  the  line  up  bodily  and  hurl  it 
up  the  hill  through  the  scorching,  blis- 
tering storm  and  hail  of  lead,  fire,  and 
smoke.  I  remembered  naught  till  the 
crest  was  gained,  and  Edward  Veasey  cry- 
ing, "  Charge  home  !  Charge  home  !  " 
and  we  dashed  in  upon  the  scarlet  line. 
Ah  me,  for  a  moment,  then    it  was  glo- 


The  Red  Tide  of  Blood      99 

rlous,  as  steel  met  steel,  and  we  drove 
them,  ten  times  our  number,  back,  and 
rolled  them  up  against  the  house  and 
forced  them  off  the  plain.  And  then 
our  hands  were  on  the  ugly  muzzles  of 
the  guns,  and  Edward  Veasey,  spring- 
ing on  the  carriage,  cheered  on  his  men. 
But  ere  it  had  died  on  his  lips,  so  desper- 
ate was  the  struggle,  the  English  Captain 
of  the  guns  fired,  and  Veasey  fell.  I  was 
but  a  dozen  steps  away,  and,  seeing 
Veasey  fall,  I  dashed  through  the  press 
of  bayonets  to  where  the  English  Cap- 
tain fought. 

"  Another  one  !  "  he  cried,  as  we  met 
face  to  face. 

"  Yes,  and  the  last ;  "  and  our  swords 
met. 

"  No  time  for  that !  "  cried  a  voice 
at  my  side ;  then  there  was  a  flash,  and 
the  Englishman  fell  back  into  the  arms 
of  his  men,  and  the  guns  were  won  for 
an   instant.      But   only  for   an   instant. 


loo  The  Tory  Maid 

Our  men  melted  away  under  the  storm 
of  lead  from  the  Cortelyou  house,  and 
the  weight  of  the  advancing  regiments 
forced  us  back  to  the  crest  of  the  hill. 
Then  slowly,  step  by  step,  down  the 
hill  they  forced  us,  until  we  rested  once 
more  at  its  foot. 

But  still  the  meadow,  the  marsh,  and 
the  creek  were  black  with  the  mass  of 
flying  men  seeking  eagerly,  desperately 
to  escape,  while  between  them  and  the 
victorious  British  stretched  the  ranks 
of  the  Maryland  Line,  now  sadly 
thinned,  for  one-third  of  our  men  were 
dyeing  the  long  dank  grass  with  their 
blood.  But  that  line,  thin  as  it  was, 
closed  up  the  wide  gaps  in  the  ranks 
with  as  jaunty  a  step  and  as  gallant  a 
carriage  as  when  they  first  stepped  out 
for  the  charge.  Their  faces  looked 
grim,  it  is  true,  for  with  the  smoke  and 
the  fire,  and  the  blood  and  the  dust,  the 
genius  of  battle  had  sketched  thereon. 


The  Red  Tide  of  Blood      i  o  i 

For  a  few  minutes  we  rested  at  the 
foot  of  the  hill,  for  we  knew  that  our 
work  was  not  half  done,  and  until  the 
last  fugitive  was  over  Gowanus  Creek 
we  must  check  the  British  advance.  A 
glance  from  Lord  Stirling  told  us  to 
charge,  as  he  pointed  up  the  long  hill 
with  his  sword. 

Again  there  came  the  answering  yell, 
the  requiem  for  many  a  gallant  soul, 
and  the  line  once  more  swung  forward 
to  breast  the  hill.  Up  the  long  hill 
we  toiled  again,  straight  into  the  teeth 
of  the  fire. 

Again  we  gained  the  crest  and  fought 
them,  man  to  man  ;  again  by  weight  of 
numbers  they  forced  us  off  the  crest, 
and  sent  us  staggering,  reeling  down 
the  hill,  desperate   now. 

Yet  again  Lord  Stirling  called  on  us 
to  follow,  and  yet  again  we  charged 
them  home. 

Men  lay  wounded,  men   lay  dying, 


102  The  Tory  Maid 

all  across  the  long  hillside,  and  more 
than  half  our  number  were  dead  or 
sorely  stricken. 

Yet  it  was  for  a  fifth  time  that  Stir- 
ling's voice  rang  clear,  over  the  roar  of 
the  battle,  and  for  the  fifth  time  we 
picked  up  the  gauge  of  their  challenge, 
and  swept  forward  in  the  charge. 

Thus  for  the  last  time  we  reached  the 
crest,  and  for  one  heroic  moment  held 
our  own,  and  then  came  reeling  back 
from  the  shock.  And,  as  I  was  carried 
down  the  hill  with  the  retreating  line,  I 
saw  the  tall  figure  of  Lord  Stirling 
standing  upright  and  alone  amid  the 
storm  of  bullets,  courting  death  and 
disdaining  to  retreat. 

"  To  the  rescue  of  Lord  Stirling,"  1 
cried  to  the  few  soldiers  who  were 
around  me.  Dick,  who  was  near, 
echoed  my  shout,  and  we  dashed  for- 
ward, determined  to  bring  him  off  by 
force  if  no  other  way  could  be  found. 


The  Red  Tide  of  Blood      103 

But  we  had  not  advanced  a  dozen 
yards  before  every  man  that  was  with  us 
had  fallen  and  only  Dick  and  I  reached 
Lord  Stirling,  who  was  calmly  awaiting 
the  end. 

"The  day  is  lost,  my  lord,"  I  cried, 
"  but  we  have  yet  time  to  save  you." 

"  Save  yourselves,  lads,"  he  replied  ; 
"  you  have  done  everything  that  men 
can  do,  but  it  remains  for  me  either  to 
die  or  surrender." 

"My  lord,"  I  cried;  but  at  this 
moment  Dick  reeled.  "  Struck,  by 
George  !  "  he  exclaimed,  and  I  caught 
him  as  he  fell. 

"See  to  your  comrade,"  said  Lord 
Stirling  ;  "  you  have  yet  time  to  escape." 

So,  throwing  Dick's  arms  around  my 
neck,  for  there  was  no  time  to  parley 
under  that  rain  of  lead,  I  bore  him 
quickly  down  the  hill. 

But  our  work  had  not  been  in  vain, 
for    as    a   soldier    came    to    my    assist- 


1 04  The  Tory  Maid 

ance  I  saw  that  the  last  of  the 
fugitives  had  reached  the  other  side, 
and  the  army  for  the  moment  was 
saved. 

And  so,  when  we  reached  the  banks 
of  Gowanus  Creek,  we  formed  in  Hne 
once  more  and  gave  a  parting  yell  of 
defiance  ;  then,  turning,  we  plunged  into 
the  creek  and  swam  to  the  other  side, 
while  the  shot  and  grape  from  the  Eng- 
lish on  the  hill  tore  across  the  whole 
surface  of  the  water. 

Dick  was  badly  wounded,  but,  with 
the  soldier's  assistance,  I  swam  with  him 
across  the  creek  and  bore  him  safely 
out  of  the  range  of  the  fire. 

Ah,  it  was  but  a  shadow  of  our  former 
line  when  we  formed  once  more,  but  the 
great  General  himself  came  to  thank  us, 
and  that  shadow  of  a  line  was  worth 
a  thousand  men. 

Thereafter  we  claimed  as  our  own  the 
post  of  honour  in  advance  or  in  retreat; 


The  Red  Tide  of  Blood      105 

during  the  famous  march  on  the  night 
after  the  battle,  and  in  the  retreat  to 
White  Plains,  we  formed  the  rear  guard, 
and  the  army  felt  secure. 

There  came  a  breathing  time  one  day 
during  the  retreat,  and  the  General  rode 
up  to  our  lines.  We  greeted  him  with 
the  yell  he  loved  to  hear,  for  it  brought 
back  to  him  the  Southland  and  the 
hunting  fields  of  Old  Virginia. 

Then  he  told  our  officers  that  he 
wanted  us  to  pick  out  the  youngest  of 
our  line  to  carry  a  special  despatch  to 
the  Committee  of  Public  Safety,  sitting 
at  Annapolis,  announcing  the  battle  and 
the  famous  part  we  had  taken  therein. 
The  choice  fell  on  me,  as  poor  Dick 
was  groaning  in  the  hospital,  but  luckily 
out  of  danger  from  his  wound. 

"  Well,  my  boy,  how  old  are  you  ?  " 
said  the  General,  smiling  down  upon 
me,  as  I  saluted. 

"  Eip;hteen,  General." 


io6  The  Tory  Maid 

'^Do  you  think  you  can  carry  this 
safely  ?  *' 

"  I  was  in  the  charge  at  Gowanus 
Ford,  General,"  said  I  modestly. 

"  I  see,"  laughed  the  General,  "  you 
are  a  true  Marylander.  I  wish  I  had 
more  of  you  in  the  army." 


CHAPTER   X 

THE    HARRYING    OF    THE    TORY 

I  WAS  soon  riding  southward,  tl>e 
bearer  of  the  message  from  General 
Washington  to  the  Council  of  Safety,  sit- 
ting at  AnnapoHs  ;  and  as  I  rode,  the 
people  hailed  me  for  mv  news,  and  gave 
me  food  and  drink,  so  I  could  hurry  on. 

At  last  I  reached  the  borders  of 
Maryland,  and  again  rode  under  the 
old  oak  from  which  I  had  torn  the 
proclamation.  It  was  only  a  few  weeks 
before,  and  I  wondered  what  had  been 
the  fate  of  Charles  Gordon. 

So,  as  I  rode  through  the  Head  of 
Elk  late  that  afternoon  and  came  to 
the  ferry  there,  I  asked  the  boatman 
what  they  had  done  with  him. 


io8  The  Tory  Maid 

"  Forfeiture  has  been  decreed,"  he 
answered,  "  and  the  new  High  Sheriff 
and  James  Rodolph  have  gone  to-day 
with  a  posse  and  many  men  to  root  the 
traitor  out." 

"  How  long  ago  did  they  start? " 

"About  an  hour." 

"  What  road  did  they  take  ?  " 

"  The  river  road.  They  expect  to 
reach  there  about  nine  o'clock.  Jupiter  ! 
I  'd  like  to  be  there  and  see  the  flames 
reddening  the  sky.  It  will  be  a  grand 
sight."  He  looked  longingly  through 
the  forest  toward  the  Braes. 

"  Something  else  will  be  dyed  crim- 
son, if  I  know  that  Tory  right." 

"That  there  will  be,  sir;  it  will  be 
a  lovely  scrimmage ;  "  and  he  sighed  at 
the  lost  opportunity. 

The  boat  grounded  on  the  south 
bank,  and   I   mounted  Toby. 

"  A  pleasant  ride,  sir." 

"  Thanks  ;  good-night." 


The  Harrying  of  the  Tory     109 

"  Toby,"  said  I,  as  I  patted  his  neck, 
"  you  have  travelled  many  a  mile  to- 
day, old  fellow  ;  but  you  will  have  to 
cover  the  ground  to-night  as  you  never 
covered  it  before.  They  have  an  hour's 
start,  and  we  have  a  longer  distance  to 
go  ;  so  double  your  legs  under  you,  my 
boy,  and  go." 

Toby  rising  to  the  occasion,  and  the 
spirit  of  old  Ranter  proving  true,  he 
broke  into  the  long  even  gallop  that 
makes  the  miles  pass  swiftly.  It  w^as 
a  race  against  time,  against  James  Ro- 
dolph  and  his  crew.  I  knew  if  once 
they  gained  the  Braes,  black  death  would 
stalk  among  the  ruins,  for  Charles  Gor- 
don would  never  surrender. 

The  night  fell  rapidly  as  we  raced 
along  and  the  miles  flew  by. 

As  Toby  and  I  drew  near  Bohemia 
Manor,  where  the  road  joined  the  one 
on  which  the  posse  was  marching,  I 
reined  him  in  and  rode  more  cautiously. 


1  lo  The  Tory  Maid 

It  was  well  that  I  did  so,  for  as  I 
approached  I  heard  the  low  murmur 
of  men's  voices  and  saw  their  figures  in 
the  dim  light  as  they  were  marching 
by. 

I  brought  Toby  to  a  halt.  The 
road  was  cut  off  that  way,  so  I  wheeled 
him  around  to  ride  back  a  short  dis- 
tance to  where  the  road  skirted  the 
open  fields  of  Bohemia  Manor.  As 
Toby  plunged  forward  in  answer  to  my 
spur,  I  heard  a  cry  and  then  a  shot  * 
came  whistling  by.  But  I  left  them 
behind,  and  coming  to  the  open  fields, 
I  put  Toby  at  the  fence  and  raced 
across  the  open  country,  through  the 
lower  fields  to  the  Braes,  Toby  taking 
the  fences  in  his  stride. 

Then  I  dashed  once  more  across  the 
green  lawn  of  the  Braes  and  drew  my 
sword  hilt  across  the  shutter. 

There  was  a  stir  in  the  room  above 
ine  ;   the  shutter  was  cautiously  opened 


.  The  Harrying  of  the  Tory      1 1  i 

and  I  was  covered  by  the  muzzle 
of  a  pistol. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  demanded  a  voice 
which  I   knew  to  be  Charles   Gordon's. 

"James  Frisby  of  Fairlee,"  I  re- 
plied. "  I  have  ridden  to  warn  you, 
Mr.  Gordon.  You  have  only  a  few 
minutes  to  escape  in  ;  James  Rodolph, 
with  a  hundred  men  behind  him,  will 
be  here  in  ten   minutes.'* 

"  Thank  you,  lad,  for  the  infor- 
mation. I  will  give  them  a  warm 
reception." 

"  But  you  cannot  hold  the  Braes 
against  a  hundred  men  ;  they  will  burn 
you  out,  and  then  Mistress  Jean." 

"  Hum  ;  that  is  so,  lad.  Ride  round 
to  the  rear  of  the  house.'* 

I  did  so,  and  a  moment  later,  they 
came  out  on  the  little  porch.  The  old 
gentleman  had  buckled  on  his  sword, 
and  there  were  pistols  in  his  belt.  And 
she,   ah  !    she    never   looked   more    be- 


1 1  2  The  Tory  Maid 

witching.  Her  beautiful  hair  flowed 
wild  about  her  shoulders,  over  the  light 
dark  mantle  in  which  she  was  wrapped. 
By  the  flicker  of  the  candle,  I  saw  that 
a  bright  flush  mantled  her  cheek,  as 
she  spoke  rapidly. 

"  Father,  there  is  an  English  vessel 
a  few  miles  down  the  bay.  Call  the 
slaves  and  escape  to  it." 

"  But  I  cannot  take  you  there." 

"  I  will  carry  her  through  the  lines," 
I  cried,  "  and  see  her  safe  in  the  hands 
of  her  aunt  in  Kent." 

They  hesitated,  but  the  noise  in 
front  of  the  house  told  of  the  approach- 
ing mob,  and  there  was  no  time  for 
parley.  So,  true  to  my  race,  I  acted 
quickly,  and  stooping  from  my  saddle  I 
caught  her  up  gently  and  placed  her 
on  Toby  before  me. 

"It  is  the  only  chance,  lad.  See 
that  you  carry  her  safely." 

"  I  will   carry  her  through  or  die,"  I 


The  Harrying  of  the  Tory     i  i  3 

replied  with  deep  conviction.  At  the 
touch  of  the  spur  Toby  sprang  forward 
under  his  double  burden. 

"  The  creek,"  she  cried. 

"Yes;   but  we  can  swim  it." 

Indeed  it  was  our  only  way,  as  the 
mob  blocked  the  other  roads  of  escape, 
so  we  rode  boldly  in  and  swam  for  the 
other  side.  The  creek  was  several 
hundred  yards  wide,  but  Toby  bore 
us  bravelv  until  we  reached  the  south- 
ern shore,  then  he  plunged  forward, 
threw  himself  up  the  bank,  and  we 
were  out  of  immediate  danger. 

There  we  halted  fDr  a  moment  under 
the  shadow  of  a  great  tree  and  looked 
back  across  the  water. 

We  heard  the  sound  of  many  voices, 

the  howling  of  the  mob,  and  through 

the  trunks  of  the   trees    flickered    the 

glare  of  the  torches.      Suddenly  shots 

rang    out,  a  cry    of   dismay    and    rage 

followed,  and   then    the   flash   of  guns 
8 


1 1 4  The  Tory  Maid 

and  a  rattling  volley  crashed  around 
the  house. 

"  By  Jove,  he  is  fighting  it  out ! " 
But  the  slender  figure  on  my  arm 
trembled,  and  I  saw  that  her  face  was 
white  through  the  darkness. 

"  He  will  escape,  Mistress  Jean,"  I 
said  reassuringly  ;  "  trust  an  old  High- 
lander for  that."  And  I  saw  that  her 
eyes  were  bright  and  tense,  watching 
the  scene  across  the  water. 

"There  he  goes,"  she  exclaimed  jov- 
fuUy  ;  and  there,  gliding  swiftly  through 
the  waters,  where  the  shadow  of  the 
trees  made  the  darkness  more  intense, 
was  a  long  low  boat  rowed  by  stalwart 
slaves.  The  sound  of  the  oars  was 
drowned  by  the  clamour  of  the    mob. 

"  If  he  passes  the  neck,"  I  exclaimed, 
"  he  will  be  safe ;  "  for  the  creek  nar- 
rowed at  its  mouth  until  it  was  but  a 
hundred  yards  wide. 

"  Ride  quick  to  the  point,"  she  said. 


The  Harrying  of  the  Tory     1 1  5 

So  Toby  plunged  forward  again  at 
the  pressure  of  my  knees,  and  though 
he  still  went  gallantly  on,  1  could  tell 
that  the  strain  and  the  toil  of  the  long 
march  from  the  north,  and  his  dash 
from  the  Head  of  Elk,  were  beginning 
to  tell  on  him. 

At  last  we  reached  the  mouth  of  the 
creek,  and  1  brought  Toby  to  a  halt 
under  the  shadow  of  a  clump  of  trees, 
where  we  could  see  and  yet  not  be 
seen.  I  glanced  for  a  moment  out 
over  the  waters  of  the  bay,  and  I 
saw,  several  miles  to  the  southward, 
the  gleam  of  a  light  as  it  fell  on  the 
waves  ;  I  knew  it  was  the  English 
man-of-war. 

But  Mistress  Jean's  eyes  were  eagerly 
searching  the  waters  of  the  creek,  and 
she  was  straining  her  ears  to  catch  the 
sound  of  the  oars.  Then  we  were  re- 
warded. For  at  that  moment  we  heard 
the  long  sweep  of  the  oars  in  the  water. 


1 1 6  The  Tory  Maid 

and  out  from  the  mouth  of  the  creek 
came  the  boat,  the  brawny  negroes 
bending  to   their  task. 

The  commanding  figure  of  the  old 
Tory  stood  in  the  stern,  looking  back 
up  the  creek  whence  they  came.  Un- 
consciously my  glance  followed  his,  and 
I  saw  that  the  sky  was  crimson,  and 
high  above  the  tree-tops  the  flames 
licked  the  skies. 

"  The  Braes  ! "  I  exclaimed,  and 
Mistress  Jean  was  about  to  call  out, 
when  there  came  the  sound  of  gallop- 
ing hoofs  on  the  other  side.  A  horse- 
man dashed  into  view,  and  rode  into 
the  water  up  to  the  saddle-girths. 
There  was  a  flash,  and  the  crack  of  a 
pistol  broke  the  stillness  of  the  night; 
then  with  a  gesture  of  rage,  the  horse- 
man rose  in  his  stirrups  and  hurled  the 
pistol  far  over  the  water  ;  we  heard  the 
splash  as  it  fell. 

Then   the   figure   in   the   boat  raised 


The  Harrying  of  the  Tory     117 

his  clenched  hand  and  shook  it  at  the 
horseman  and  the  flames. 

"You  fired  too  quick,  Mr.  Rodolph," 
said  the  ferryman. 

"Yes,  damn  him,  he  has  escaped." 
He  turned  his  horse  and  rode  into  the 
darkness,  while  a  soft  voice  whispered 
in  my  ear,  — 

"Thank  God." 


CHAPTER   XI 

THE    COUNCIL    OF    SAFETY 

The  sun  had  risen  when  we  came 
once  more  in  view  of  the  groves  of 
Fairlee.  Toby's  pace  had  degenerated 
into  a  walk,  as  if  not  to  disturb  the  fair 
burden  he  bore,  for  she,  overcome  with 
fatigue  and  excitement,  was  quietly 
sleeping  with  her  head  on  my  shoul- 
der. Toby  picked  his  way  like  a  danc- 
ing-master, and  though  the  road  was 
rough,  never  once  did  he  stumble  ;  he 
still  bore  himself  gallantly  for  the  old 
House  of  Fairlee.  Ah  !  Toby,  that 
road  was  miles  too  short  for  your  mas- 
ter. Willingly  would  he  have  ridden 
thus,  aye,  until  his  hair  had  turned  as 
white   as  snow  on  his  brows,  until   the 


The  Council  of  Safety       1 1 9 

hand  that  guided  the  reins  became  too 
feeble  to  grasp  them  ;  aye,  even  unto 
the   end  of  time. 

But  befDre  us  lay  Fairlee,  and  be- 
yond that  lay  duty  and  the  army. 
"  Look  once  more,  my  cavalier,"  said 
I  to  myself;  "look  once  more,  for  the 
moments  are  short,  and  in  the  days  to 
come,  in  the  dreary  bivouacs  and  on 
the  long  marches,  when  the  world 
seems  bare  and  cold,  the  memory  of 
that  sweet  face  will  brighten  up  with 
sunshine  your  existence  and  make  it  all 
glorious  again.  Oh,  hang  it,  here  is 
Fairlee  !  " 

"  Mistress  Jean,"  I  whispered.  I 
was  loath  to  wake  her,  but  it  had  to  be 
done.  "  Mistress  Jean  !  "  I  said,  this 
time  louder,  and  she  awoke  with  a 
start.  "  This  is  Fairlee,  and  you  can 
rest  here  with  my  mother,  while  I  push 
on." 

"Fairlee  ?     Why,  where  am  I  ?     Oh, 


1 20  The  Tory  Maid 

1  remember  now.     Did  I  go  to  sleep, 

Mr.  Frisby  ?  " 

"You  did,  Mistress  Jean." 

A  quick  blush  came. 

"  Oh,"  she  said,  "  how  can  I  thank 
you?      I   don't  deserve " 

"  Ah,  Mistress  Jean,  it  is  I  who  do 
not  deserve  that  pleasure.  I  would  go 
through  a  hundred  fights  to  be  able  to 
do  it  again  ;  but  you  are  tired,  and  I 
will   rouse   the  house." 

So,  hammering  on  the  door,  I  soon 
brought  John  Cotton  to  it.  His  woolly 
hair  almost  went  straight  on  seeing  me, 
and  he  started  back,  for  he  thought  he 
saw  my  ghost. 

"  Good  Lord,  Mars  Jim,"  he  stam- 
mered, "  does  that  be  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  you  black  scamp."  And  I 
soon  convinced  him  of  my  real  per- 
sonality. 

"  But,  Mars  Jim,  who  is  dat  you 
got    wid   you  ?      It    ain't    one  of  dem 


The  Council  of  Safety       i  2 1 

Yankee  ladies,  is  it  ?  "  For,  I  am 
sorry  to  say,  John  Cotton  did  not  ap- 
prove of  the  ladies  in  question,  and 
was  afraid  I  would  "  disgrace  de 
family "  if  I  married  one  of  them. 
Before  I  could  answer  I  heard  a  glad 
little  cry,  and  there  was  my  mother, 
coming  down  the  stairway  of  the  great 
hall. 

"  How  is  my  little  lady  ?  "  said  I,  as 
I  picked  her  up  and  kissed  her,  and 
then  I  introduced  Mistress  Jean  to 
her  and  told  her  of  our  adventure  at 
the  Braes. 

Then  my  mother  went  up  to  her, 
in  her  stately  little  way,  and  took  her 
hands  in  hers,  and  kissed  and  welcomed 
her  to  the  House  of  Fairlee. 

So  they  made  friends  with  each 
other  then  and  there,  as  women  do, 
and  my  mother  led  her  away,  up  the 
broad  stairs,  and  I  stood  looking  after 
them.     Then    I     turned    to    my    own 


122  The  Tory  Maid 

room,  and,  throwing  myself  on  the 
bed,  I  slept  the  sleep  of  exhaustion 
for  many  hours. 

When  the  hour  of  my  awakening 
came  I  sprang  up,  for  there  lay  the 
despatch  which  I  was  to  bear  to  the 
Council  of  Safety. 

Drawing  on  my  riding-boots  and 
buckling  on  my  sword,  I  called  John 
Cotton  to  bring  my  horse  to  the  door, 
for  several  miles  lay  between  Fairlee 
and  Rock  Hall,  where  the  boat  lay  to 
take  me  to  Annapolis. 

I  walked  across  to  the  hall  and  on 
to  the  old  porch,  where  I  saw  Mistress 
Jean  standing,  gazing  wistfully  out  on 
the  broad  bay. 

"  He  is  safe  now.  Mistress  Jean." 

"  Yes,"  she  said  with  a  sad  smile, 
"  but  when  shall  I  ever  see  him 
again  ?  " 

"  Just  as  soon  as  we  whip  them,"  I 
replied. 


The  Council  of  Safety      123 

"  Then  it  will  never  be,"  came  her 
retort. 

"  Oh,  ho  !  What  will  your  uncle, 
Captain  Nicholson,  say  when  he  finds 
he  has  such  a  fiery  little  Tory  in  his 
house  ?  He  will  have  to  give  up  chas- 
ing the  redcoats  to  suppress  the  God- 
dess of  Sedition  in  his  own  camp." 

But  at  this  Mistress  Jean  gave  her 
head  a  toss  and  walked  away  to  the 
end  of  the  porch. 

Then  John  Cotton  brought  the 
horse  to  the  steps. 

"  Are  you  going  so  soon,  Mr. 
Frisby  ? " 

"  I  must,"  I  answered ;  "  I  am  a 
bearer  of  despatches  to  the  Council  of 
Safety.  I  would  gladly  desert  my 
trust  to  be  your  escort  to  Chestertown, 
but  —  " 

"  The  honour  of  the  House  of 
Fairlee  stands  in  the  way,"  said  she 
mockingly. 


I  24  The  Tory  Maid 

"  Not  that,  my  lady,"  I  replied, 
bowing  courteously,  "  but  the  fact  that 
I  would  fall  even  lower  in  your  good 
graces." 

"  Well  said,  cavalier,"  she  retorted, 
with  a  sweeping  courtesy.  "'Tis  a 
pity  that  so  fine  a  gentleman  should  be 
a  rebel." 

"  Or  so  fair  a  maid  a  Tory." 

"Is  this  a  minuet  ?  "  came  the 
laughing  voice  of  my  mother  from  the 
door. 

"  Nay,  mother,  I  am  only  bidding 
Mistress  Jean  good-bye  with  all  due 
ceremony." 

A  few  moments  later  I  was  in  the 
saddle,  trotting  slowly  off,  while  behind 
me  fluttered  their  handkerchiefs,  wav- 
ing good-bye. 

Rock  Hall  lies  on  a  bluff,  looking 
out  across  the  bay.  To  the  southward 
lies  the  Isle  of  Kent,  with  its  fertile 
fields  of  waving  grain,  and  ofl^  there  on 


The  Council  of  Safety      125 

the  horizon  the  greenish  ribbon  near 
the  sky  Hne  tells  where  the  hills  of 
Anne  Arundel  lay. 

Down  below,  under  the  bluff,  lay  a 
long,  slender  boat,  shaped  like  a  canoe, 
but  much  larger,  stouter,  stronger,  and 
far  swifter,  when  the  wind  filled  its  sails 
and  carried  it  like  a  bird  skimming  over 
the  waters. 

"  An  English  man-of-war  is  lying  off 
the  Isle  of  Kent  now,"  said  the  old 
waterman  in  answer  to  my  question, 
"  but  we  can  walk  all  around  her  in  this 
boat/' 

"  Then  we  will  start  immediately,"  I 
replied,  and  placing  my  things  on  board 
we  were  soon  under  way. 

The  wind  caught  our  sails  ;  we  stood 
out  into  the  bay  gloriously,  and  she 
fairly  flew  through  the  water.  As  we 
rounded  the  Isle  of  Kent  we  saw,  lying 
almost  in  our  track,  the  English  man- 
of-war,  lazily  rolling  with  the  tide. 


126  The  Tory  Maid 

Then  there  was  a  great  bustle  on 
board,  and  the  sailors  flew  to  the  rig- 
ging, the  sails  filled  with  the  wind,  and 
through  the  port  hole  was  run  the  ugly 
muzzle  of  a  Long  Tom.  The  water- 
man with  me  laughed  merrily. 

"  They  think  they  can  stop  us,"  said 
he,  but  he  never  altered  his  course. 

So  we  bore  down  on  her  until  there 
came  a  flash  ;  a  cannon  ball  came  rico- 
chetting  across  the  water,  but  fell  short 
by  a  hundred  yards. 

The  waterman  chuckled.  "  That  is 
about  the  right  distance,"  said  he ;  and 
the  boat  answering  the  helm,  fairly 
danced  around  his  Majesty's  represen- 
tative, always,  by  a  saving  grace,  just 
beyond  cannon  shot. 

And  when  his  Majesty's  ship  actually 
gave  chase  and  sent  a  broadside  after 
our  impertinent  piece  of  baggage  the 
waterman  fairly  danced  with  delight  and 
led   her  a   merry  chase   down   the   bay 


The  Council  of  Safety       i  27 

until  we  were  opposite  Annapolis. 
Then  with  a  flirt  of  her  sail  we  bade 
them  good-bye  and  ran  for  the  mouth 
of  the  Severn.  Gaining  that,  we  soon 
passed  the  charred  hulk  of  the  Peggy 
Stewart  and  ran  up  beside  the  wharf, 
and  I  found  mvself  walking  the  streets 
of  that  gay  little  capital. 

It  was  growing  somewhat  late,  but  I 
made  my  way  at  once  to  the  State 
House,  where  the  Convention  of  the 
Freemen  of  the  Province  sat,  hoping 
still  to  find  them  at  their  deliberations. 
I  paused  for  the  moment  when  I  came 
to  the  foot  of  the  knoll  on  which  the 
State  House  stands,  for  it  had  only 
recently  been  completed,  and  was  the 
noblest  building  in  x\merica.  Its  mas- 
sive proportions  towered  high  above 
me,  overawing  the  town  at  its  feet,  and 
commanding  the  country  for  miles 
around.  But  it  was  not  a  time  for  halt- 
ing.     Hurrying  up  the  long  flights  ot 


128  The  Tory  Maid 

steps,  I  found  myself  in  the  great  lobby, 
with  its  lofty  ceilings  and  its  air  of 
vastness. 

The  Convention  had  adjourned  but 
a  short  time  before,  and  the  lobby  was 
still  filled  with  men.  As  I  threaded  my 
way  through  them  my  dusty  uniform 
and  muddy  boots  marked  me  out  as  a 
bearer  of  despatches. 

"  News  from  the  army  —  victory  or 
defeat  ?  "  cried  eager  voices  around  me. 
Answer  them  I  would  not,  but  hurried 
on  to  the  room  where  sat  the  Council 
of  Safety,  who  held  the  fate  and  the 
fortunes  of  the  province  in  its  hand  and 
was  the  heart  and  soul  of  the  great 
revolt. 

An  usher  stood  at  the  door,  but,  see- 
ing my  uniform,  threw  it  wide  open, 
and,  as  T  entered,  softly  swung  it  to 
behind  me.  It  was  a  lofty  room  in 
which  I  found  myself,  with  immense 
windows  looking  out  over  the  town  and 


The  Council  of  Safety       129 

the  sweep  of  the  waters  of  the  bay  to 
the  distant  Hne  of  the  eastern  shore.  A 
long,  broad  table  extended  down  the 
centre  of  the  room.  Around  it  were 
seated  some  sixteen  or  eighteen  gentle- 
men. Staid  men  and  grave  they  were, 
past  the  middle  age  of  life,  for  the 
younger  men  had  gone  to  fight  the  bat- 
tles of  the  republic ;  men  who  were 
fitted  by  experience  to  guide  the  prov- 
ince through  the  stormy  scenes  of  the 
civil  war. 

At  their  head  sat  a  venerable  gentle- 
man whom  I  knew  to  be  Matthew 
Tilghman,  the  patriarch  of  the  Colony. 
At  his  right  hand  sat  a  man  of  sturdy 
build,  ruddy  countenance,  and  dark  hair 
and  eyes,  more  like  a  prosperous  planter 
with  many  acres  and  numerous  slaves 
than  the  man  who  was  soon  to  become 
the  Great  War  Governor  of  Maryland. 
All  down  the  table  on  either  side  sat 
men  with  strong,  determined  faces, 
9 


130  The  Tory  Maid 

whose  names  bespoke  the  chieftainship 
of  many  a  powerful  family.  A  move- 
ment of  interest  ran  down  the  table  as 
I  entered  and  delivered  to  the  vener- 
able Chairman  the  despatch.  He  broke 
the  seal  with  nervous  fingers,  and  then 
rising,  read  General  Washington's  de- 
spatch aloud  amid  intense  interest. 

"  Battle,"  "  defeat,"  "  rout,"  "  Cortel- 
you  House,"  "  the  Maryland  Line." 
"  Good,  I  see  the  boys  did  their  duty," 
were  among  the  many  exclamations  I 
heard  around  the  table  and  when  the 
despatch  ended. 

"  The  bearer  will  describe  the  battle." 

They  all  turned  to  me,  and  Thomas 
Johnson  said  :  "  Come,  young  gentle- 
man, tell  us  everything  you  saw  and 
heard." 

So  I  took  my  place  by  the  Chairman 
and  told  them  of  what  I  had  seen  and 
done,  amid  many  interruptions  and 
eager  questions  from  the   Council. 


The  Council  of  Safety       i  3  i 

Thus  for  a  time,  as  I  stood  there,  I 
became  a  man  of  importance,  telHng  the 
tale  of  the  battle,  of  the  defeat  and  the 
rout,  of  the  fiery  charges,  the  death, 
the  pain  and  the  anguish  of  it  all,  until 
long  after  the  night  had  fallen.  But  an 
end  comes  to  all  things,  and  Thomas 
Johnson,  laying  his  hand  on  my  shoul- 
der, said : 

"Young  gentleman,  you  must  stay 
with  me  to-night." 

I  accepted  gladly,  for  the  inns  were 
crowded,  and  it  was  somewhat  late  in 
the  evening  to  find  a  friend  to  take  me 
in.  We  strolled  across  the  State  House 
grounds  under  the  soft  September  skies, 
through  the  wide,  dusty  streets,  until  we 
came  to  the  future  Governor's  house. 
Though  it  was  late,  we  talked  for  yet 
another  hour,  and  then,  with  a  cheery 
good-night,  I  was  shown  to  my  room. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE    VETO    OF    A    MAID 

Ah,  I  am  afraid  the  clean  white 
sheets,  the  soft  springy  bed,  and  the 
balmy  September  air  proved  traitor  to 
me,  after  the  hardships  of  a  soldier's 
life  in  the  field,  the  rough  bivouac,  and 
the  hard  ride  from  the  North,  for  when 
I  awoke  with  a  start,  I  found  the  sun 
high  in  the  heavens  and  the  music  of 
birds  coming  through  the  open  window 
from  the  trees  outside.  Hurriedly 
dressing,  I  opened  my  door  and  went 
down  the  broad  stairway  into  the  old 
hall.  Everything  was  quiet,  not  a  soul 
was  around.  I  wandered  across  the 
hall  and  parlour,  and  there  I  stood  for  a 
few  minutes,  looking  out  Into  the  street, 
when  a  merry  burst  of  laughter  across 


The  Veto  of  a  Maid        133 

the  hall  attracted  my  attention.  The 
door  of  the  room  opposite  was  slightly 
ajar,  and  I  saw  that  it  was  the  library 
of  the  house ;  so  crossing  the  hall,  I 
gently  rapped  on  the  panel.  A  cheery 
"  Come  in  !  "  was  my  answer.  I  obeyed 
the  summons,  threw  the  door  open,  and 
entered. 

"  Why,  it  is  our  feather-bed  soldier," 
came  a  merry  voice  from  the  broad 
window-sill,  where  sat  two  young  ladies. 
A  peal  of  ringing  laughter  followed ; 
for,  indeed,  I  was  somewhat  non- 
plussed to  thus  come  upon  two  such 
laughing,   merry  girls. 

One  was  dark,  the  other  fair  ; 
Both  were  sweet  and  debonair. 

Indeed  they  were  very  pretty,  sitting 
there  amid  the  quaint  old  surroundings, 
the  heavy  old  book-presses,  with  solid 
oak  doors,  the  wainscoting  extending 
to   the  ceiling,  the  broad  window-seats, 


134  "Ihe  Tory  Maid 

the  green  trees,  and  quiet  garden  be- 
yond. I  knew  at  once  that  they  must 
be  daughters  of  my  host,  Mistress 
Polly  and  Mistress  Betsy  Johnson,  at 
that  time  the  reigning  belles  of  the 
western  shore. 

"Now  I  know  what  awaited  me  I 
shall  never  forgive  that  feather-bed,'* 
I  replied,  recovering  from  my  confusion 
and  making  my  best  bow.  "  I  would 
never  have  proved  such  a  traitor  to  my 
cloth." 

"  That  is  better,"  said  Mistress  Polly, 
the  black-haired,  dark-eyed  one.  "  Come 
and  report  to  us,  sir.  Do  you  not  know 
that  no  officer  returns  from  the  army 
who  does  not  immediately  report  to  us  ?  " 

"  I  understand  their  alacrity  in  doing 
so.  I  shall  be  among  the  first  to  obey 
the  order  hereafter." 

"  Then,  sir,  come  tell  us  of  the  battle, 
and  what  brought  you  hither  so  fast 
that  the  mud  is  still  upon  your  boots  P  " 


The  Veto  of  a  Maid       135 

Now,  telling  the  account  of  the  battle 
to  two  charming  young  ladies,  whose 
bright  eyes  and  eager  faces  told  of  the 
interest  they  took  in  my  narrative,  was 
a  far  different  thing  from  telling  the 
same  tale  before  the  powerful  Council 
of  Safety,  and  I  am  free  to  confess  that 
I  enjoyed  the  last  far  more  than  the 
first. 

Their  exclamations  and  excited  ques- 
tions spurred  me  on,  and  I  drew  the 
picture  of  the  battle  with  a  stronger 
hand  and  painted  myself  a  hero,  which 
I  am  afraid  I  was  far  from  being. 

But  Mistress  Betsy  suddenly  sat  up 
straight,  exclaiming : 

"  Bless  me,  Polly,  Mr.  Frisby  has  not 
had  his  breakfast,  and  here  it  is  near  ten 
o'clock  "  ' —  an  outrageous  late  hour  in 
those  days. 

At  this  both  Mistress  Polly  and  Mis- 
tress Betsy  sprang  to  their  feet,  and  I 
was  duly  conducted  to  the  dining-room. 


136  The  Tory  Maid 

where  a  delightful  breakfast  awaited  me, 
which  I  endeavoured  to  eat  amid  their 
sallies  and  their  questioning. 

We  were  having  a  very  gay  time  of  it, 
when  there  came  a  heavy  step  through 
the  hall  into  the  room,  and  a  cheery 
voice  asked  :  "  How  is  the  soldier  to- 
day ?  In  good  hands,  I  see."  It  was 
Thomas  Johnson. 

"  That  he  is,  sir,"  I  replied,  rising, 
"and  he  thoroughly  enjoys  it  too." 

"  Spoken  like  a  soldier,"  replied  our 
future  Governor,  "  and  like  a  soldier  you 
must  leave  at  once,  for  the  Council  de- 
sire you  to  carry  these  despatches  post- 
haste to  General  Washington." 

"  No  ;  he  shall  not,"  cried  Mistress 
Polly,  with  a  stamp  of  her  foot.  "  He 
has  promised  to  drive  our  four-in-hand 
to  the  races  this  afternoon,  and  I  am  not 
going  to  let  that  Council  of  old  fogies 
rob  us  of  the  only  soldier  in  town  who 
has  seen  service  for  at  least  one  day/' 


The  Veto  of  a  Maid       i  37 

'^  So  that  is  the  way  the  wind  blows/* 
said  her  father,  pinching  her  cheek  and 
laughing.  "  I  will  tell  the  great  Coun- 
cil of  Public  Safety  that  they  have  been 
overruled  by  a  maid." 

"It  will  not  be  the  first  time,"  she 
retorted.  "  Their  wives  overrule  them 
every  day." 

"  I  will  ride  all  night  to  make  it  up," 
I  suggested. 

"  Never  mind,  my  boy,"  he  replied, 
"  you  deserve  a  little  holiday  ;  you  need 
not  leave  Annapolis  until  nightfall,  and 
Kent  the  following  night,  which  will 
give  you  a  chance  to  see  your  mother 
again.  There,  I  hope  this  little  minx 
will  give  me  some  peace  now." 

The  treaty  was  quickly  sealed  by  a 
kiss,  and  Mistress  Polly  ran  off  to  give 
the  order  for  the  coach-and-four,  for  the 
races  began  at  one  o'clock  and  the  course 
was  a  short  distance  out  of  the  city. 

There  soon  came  a  clatter  ot  hoofs,  a 


138  The  Tory  Maid 

rattle,  a  slam  and  a  bang,  a  whoaing,  a 
yelling,  and  a  confusion  of  noises. 

"  They  have  put  the  colts  in,"  cried 
Mistress  Betsy  with  glee,  and  Mistress 
Polly  was  at  the  door  crying,  "  Come 
on." 

"  Great  Jove  !  "  said  I  to  myself,  as  I 
seized  my  hat  and  followed  after,  for 
though  I  had  driven  many  a  wild  team 
I  had  never  done  so  through  a  town 
before.  And  four  devils  they  were  for 
a  certainty,  a  little  under  size,  but  mak- 
ing up  for  that  by  the  fire  and  vim  of 
their  proceedings. 

The  heels  of  the  wheelers  were  play- 
ing like  castanets  on  the  dashboard, 
while  the  leaders  were  in  the  air  half 
the  time  as  they  swayed  above  the  crowd 
of  darkies,  who,  hanging  on  everywhere, 
were  trying  to  hold  them  down,  while 
the  great  coach  swayed  and  rocked 
behind. 

There  was  a  flash  of  skirts,  a  gleam 


The  Veto  of  a  Maid       139 

of  the  smallest  feet  in  the  world,  and 
Mistress  Polly  and  Mistress  Betsy  were 
in  their  places,  and  I  had  sprung  to  my 
seat  and  gathered  the  reins  in  my  hands, 

"  All  ready.  Captain  ?  " 

"  Ready.  Let  go."  They  scattered 
like  chaff.  There  was  a  flash  of  hoofs 
and  they  were  off  like  a  shot,  their 
bodies  stretched  low  to  the  ground,  the 
great  coach  rolling  and  rocking  behind. 

Luckily  the  street  ended  in  a  country 
road,  for  the  street  and  the  houses  were 
gone  in  an  instant,  and  we  were  rushing 
along  between  green  fields.  A  column 
of  dust  rose  up  and  whirled  behind  us, 
and  the  road  stretched  like  a  ribbon 
before,  while  the  young  ladies  at  my 
side  laughed  and  clapped  their  hands 
in  glee.  After  several  miles  the  pace 
began  to  tell,  I  slowly  brought  them 
under  control,  and  by  the  time  I  had 
come  to  the  race-course  I  had  them  well 
in  hand.     We  had  gone  several  miles 


140  The  Tory  Maid 

out  of  our  way,  but  by  taking  a  short 
cut  we  arrived  at  the  races  on  time.  I 
brought  the  four  colts  into  the  field 
with  a  dash  and  a  flourish  as  they  were 
preparing  for  the  first  race. 

The  course  was  a  great  level  field  of 
greensward,  oval  in  shape,  with  the 
track  in  beautiful  condition.  Far  down 
the  track  on  either  hand,  almost  en- 
circling the  field,  stretched  the  lines 
of  the  coaches,  chariots,  gigs,  and 
wagons.  Gentlemen  on  horseback  and 
on  foot,  an  eager,  bustling  crowd,  gay 
with  colours  and  bright  faces,  already 
tingling  with  the  excitement  of  the 
coming  race,  made  a  stirring  scene ; 
for  the  Trinity  of  the  Marylanders 
in  the  early  days  of  my  youth  were 
the   horse,   the  hounds,   and  a  fight. 

But  though  the  faces  were  fair, 
merry,  and  pleasant  to  look  upon, 
though  the  chariots  and  four-in-hands 
were  gomeous  and  bedecked,  there  was 


The  Veto  of  a  Maid       141 

a  woful  lack  of  cavaliers  to  make  those 
damask  cheeks  mantle  with  a  blush,  for 
they  were  away  fighting  in  the  North. 
Thus  it  was,  as  I  drove  down  the  line 
in  my  uniform  of  scarlet  and  buff,  to 
find  a  stand,  that  Mistress  Polly  and 
Mistress  Betsy  had  their  triumph,  and 
many  a  fair  face  turned  our  way  as  we 
drove  by,  until  I  brought  the  coach  to 
a  halt  in  a  good  place  next  to  the  par- 
son, where  he  sat  his  cob,  watching  the 
preliminaries. 

"  Find  the  parson,"  said  Mistress 
Polly  judiciously,  "  and  you  will  have 
found  the  best  place  in  the  field." 

"  Oh,  Mistress  Polly,  you  are  a 
minx,"  said  that  reverend  gentleman. 
"  How  in  the  world  could  I  make  the 
youngsters  come  to  church  if  they  did 
not  know  I  was  a  good  judge  of  horse- 
flesh as  well  as  a  minister  ?  " 

"  They  are  off,"  cried  Mistress  Betsy. 
The  race  had  begun ;  but  why  describe 


142  The  Tory  Maid 

the  race  ?  Those  who  have  never  seen 
a  race  are  mere  worthless  creatures 
deserving  no  consideration,  and  those 
who  have  seen  a  race  do  not  need  a 
description.  At  the  mere  name  they 
see  the  grand  thoroughbreds  at  the  line, 
their  coats  shining  like  satin  in  the  sun, 
eager  and  ready  to  be  off.  Then  the 
flag  falls,  and,  amid  the  rustling  of  skirts 
and  craning  of  necks,  they  are  off.  Ah, 
and  then  comes  the  glorious  excitement 
of  it  all  as  you  watch  with  eager  eyes 
that  ribbon  of  a  track,  and  see  now  this 
one,  now  that  one,  slowly  draw  away 
from  the  bunch  at  the  start,  and  the 
closing  of  the  space  again,  until  they 
become  mere  moving  spots  on  the  far 
side  of  the  field.  And  then,  that  home 
stretch,  with  its  thunder  of  hoofs,  its 
roar  of  voices,  and  cheers  and  yells,  as 
the  grand  beasts,  with  straining  nerves 
and  neck  to  neck,  make  the  last  great 
effort ;  and  afterward  the  triumph,  the 


The  Veto  of  a  Maid       143 

waving  of  handkerchiefs,  the  great  cheer 
that  greets  the  victor,  and  the  smiles  of 
merry  lips  and  laughing  eyes.  Those 
were  the  prizes  we  raced  for,  when 
racing  was  the  pastime  of  gentlemen, 
and  not  an  excuse  for  blackguardism 
and  gambling,  as  to-day  it  is  fast  be- 
coming. So  my  kind  hosts  and  I 
made  our  little  bets,  and  enjoyed  our- 
selves right  thoroughly,  until  the  last 
race,  which  was  won  by  a  grandson  of 
the  great  Selim,  was  over  and  done. 
Then  I  swung  my  four  colts  into  the 
road  again,  and  at  a  rattling  pace 
returned  to  town. 

It  was  late  now,  and  the  sun  was 
preparing  to  take  its  last  dip  behind 
the  western  hills  ;  so  I  was  forced  to 
bid  my  charming  hostesses  adieu,  and 
amid  many  good  wishes  and  a  waving 
of  handkerchiefs,  departed  to  seek  my 
waterman,  to  begin  my  trip  across  the 
bay. 


144  The  Tory  Maid 

The  town  became  a  blur,  a  dark 
mass  behind  us,  broken  by  the  twink- 
ling of  the  lights  through  the  gloom, 
as  we  swiftly  glided  down  the  Severn 
before  the  wind.  Out  upon  the  bay  it 
was  still  light,  and  we  steered  for  the 
north  point  of  the  Isle  of  Kent.  The 
wind  was  fresh.  With  all  sail  set  we 
skimmed  the  water  before  it,  and  ere 
many  hours  had  passed  we  saw  the 
light  through  the  gloom  of  Rock  Hall 
straight  ahead.  But  the  old  waterman 
suddenly  brought  his  helm  around 
hard,  and  pointed  her  nose  for  the  wide 
mouth  of  the  Chester  close  at  hand. 

"What  is  wrong?"  I  asked,  and  for 
an  answer  he  pointed  with  his  arm  to 
where  against  the  sky  were  outlined  the 
tapering  masts  of  a  large  vessel  lying 
between  us  and  Rock  Hall. 

"  That  is  a  man-of-war,"  he  said, 
*'  we  will  have  to  run  up  the  river  to 
Chestertown." 


The  Veto  of  a  Maid        145 

"Agreed,"  said  I,  right  readily,  for  I 
thought  I  might  see  Mistress  Jean 
once  more  before  I  went  back  to  the 
front. 

The  mouth  of  the  Chester  was  soon 
gained,  and  for  hours,  through  the 
stillness  of  the  night,  we  glided  over  its 
smooth  waters,  between  low,  heavily 
wooded  banks,  or  the  broad  sweeping 
fields  of  some  plantation,  whose  bound- 
aries were  lapped  by  the  waters  of  the 
river.  In  the  early  morning,  in  the 
dusky  gray  hours,  we  ran  along  beside 
the  wharf  of  the  old  county  seat  of 
Kent. 


10 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE    GREETING    OF    FAIR    LIPS 

After  wandering  through  the  streets 
of  this  old  town  during  the  early  hours 
of  the  morning,  seeing  it  gradually 
wake  into  life  and  take  on  the  quiet 
bustle  of  the  day,  I  at  last  found  my- 
self before  the  inn,  which  had  just  been 
opened. 

The  host  was  an  old  friend,  and  we 
were  soon  fighting  over  the  battles 
again,  when  a  shadow  fell  across  us 
and  I  sprang  to  my  feet. 

It  was  Capt.  James  Nicholson,  one 
of  the  three  brothers  who  fought  their 
ships  in  sunshine  and  in  storm,  while 
there  was  a  plank  left  for  them  to  stand 
upon,  carrying  dismay  through  the 
English  fleets  by  their  desperate  cour- 


rhe  Greeting  of  Fair  Lips     1 47 

age  and  daring.  He  was  a  man  about 
forty  years  old,  over  medium  height, 
but  slender  and  of  fair  complexion,  with 
light  blue  eyes  and  reddish  hair,  a  typi- 
cal descendant  of  that  old  Viking, 
Nicholson,  who  fought  some  famous 
fights  under  King  Haco,  and  harried 
the  coasts  of  Scotland  until  he  gained  a 
foothold  there  and  founded  the  Scottish 
family  of  the  name.  The  same  open, 
bold  countenance  of  the  Admiral,  the 
same  frank  and  manly  bearing,  showed 
him  to  be  a  sailor  and  a  fighter. 

"  Hello,  Frisby,"  said  he,  shaking 
my  hand  cordially.  "  With  the  dove 
so  near  I  knew  that  the  hawk  would 
not  be  far  away." 

I  stammered  out,  as  the  landlord 
smiled,  that  I  was  forced  to  come  to 
Chestertown  to  avoid  the  man-of-war 
lying  off  Rock  Hall. 

"She is  off  Rock  Hall,  is  she?  Well, 
I  shall  have  to  chase  her  away  with  the 


148  The  Tory  Maid 

Defence  next  week.  But  is  that  your 
only  excuse  for  coming  so  far  out  of 
your  way  ?  '* 

And  when  I  protested  that  it  was,  he 
laughed  genially,  and,  turning  to  the 
landlord,  said  :  "  He  does  not  look  like 
a  knight-errant  who  flies  to  the  rescue 
of  maids,  and  Tory  maids  at  that,  does 
he  ?  But  see  here,  youngster,  since  you 
have  brought  this  little  traitress  into 
my  household,  you  will  have  to  do  your 
share  in  converting  her  to  the  true 
principles  of  liberty  and  democracy/* 

"  Keep  that  for  the  men,  Captain," 
cried  the  landlord.  "  Keep  that  for  the 
men;  the  women  give  us  no  peace,  as 
it  is,  and  if  they  once  get  those  notions 
there  will  be  no  living  with  them." 

"  Ah,  you  old  reprobate,  you  had 
better  not  let  your  wife  hear  you." 

With  this  we  left  the  inn,  and  going 
through  some  quiet  streets,  we  at  last 
came  to  Water  Street,  with   its  square 


The  Greeting  of  Fair  Lips     149 

brick  houses,  gardens  and  flowers,  and 
green  lawns  leading  to  the  river.  Very 
substantial  were  the  buildings,  quaint 
and  old-fashioned.  A  number  of  white 
steps  led  from  the  street  to  the  porch 
of  the  Captain's  house.  When,  at  his 
motion,  I  opened  the  door  and  stepped 
into  the  hall,  which  was  somewhat  dark 
after  the  glare  of  the  street,  there  came 
a  flurry  of  lace,  and  soft  arms  were 
around  my  neck.  And  —  well,  what 
could  a  man  do  but  return  that  kiss 
with  interest  ?  But  the  best  things  are 
but  fleeting,  for,  when  she  glanced  at 
my  face,  and  saw  who  I  was,  she  gave 
a  little  cry,  broke  from  my  arms,  and 
vanished  in  confusion  up  the  stairway, 
followed  by  the  merry  laughter  of  the 
real  uncle,  not  the  proxy. 

"You  surely  cannot  object  to  that 
welcome,  Frisby ;  but  I  must  tell  Mis- 
tress Jean  to  be  more  careful,  or  the 
army    will    lose     a    promising     oflicer. 


150  The  Tory  Maid 

They  will  not  be  able  to  keep  you  away 
from  the  town  if  this  keeps  on." 

So  saying,  he  led  the  way  to  the  rear 
porch  where  it  overlooked  the  lawn  and 
the  river. 

Here  we  sat  and  talked  until  the 
breakfast-bell  rang,  and  we  went  into 
the  dining-room.  I  was  as  hungry  as 
a  trooper  by  this  time,  after  my  all-night 
experience  on  the  Chester. 

The  dining-room  was  a  long  room, 
with  open  windows  looking  out  across 
the  river  and  the  fields. 

We  had  not  as  yet  taken  our  seats, 
when  through  another  door  came  Mis- 
tress Jean  and  Mistress  Nancy  Nichol- 
son, her  bosom  friend  and  confidante, 
with  their  arms  around  each  other's 
waists  —  a   charming  picture. 

The  colour  mantled  high  on  Mistress 
Jean's  cheek,  and  I  am  sure  that  mine 
played  the  traitor  also,  but  Mistress 
Nancy  came  to  the  rescue  by  demand- 


The  Greeting  of  Fair  Lips     151 

ing  news  and  particulars  of  her  cavaher, 
for  such  she  declared  Mr.  Richard 
Ringgold  of  Hunting  Field  to  be. 

Answering,  I  told  her  that  I  had  left 
him  covered  with  blood  and  with  glory, 
but  on  the  fair  road  to  recovery.  And 
so,  though  Mistress  Jean  still  showed 
a  heightened  colour,  in  telling  of  Master 
Richard's  fortunes  and  escapes  we  broke 
the  embarrassment  of  the  meeting,  and 
were  soon  fast  friends  again.  It  was  a 
merry  breakfast.  Afterward  the  two 
young  ladies  and  I  walked  in  the  gar- 
den by  the  river's  edge  and  talked  of 
many  things,  —  of  war  and  campaign- 
ing, for  I  claimed  to  be  an  authority  by 
now,  and  quite  a  veteran,  —  of  love  ; 
but  that  was  too  dangerous,  for  Mis- 
tress Nancy  would  look  at  me  slyly  and 
laugh  as  she  asked  if  I  was  as  great  an 
authority  upon  the  one  as  I  was  upon 
the  other. 

I  retorted  that  I  had  heard  many  a 


152  The  Tory  Maid 

lecture  on  the  subject  from  Master 
Richard,  but  otherwise  knew  nothing 
of  the  art,  and  then  I  begged  her  to 
take  me  as  a  pupil,  so  that  in  time  I 
might  become  as  great  a  scholar  as 
Dick  himself.  But  she  roguishly  rec- 
ommended me  to  her  Assistant  Pro- 
fessor Mistress  Jean  Gordon,  who,  she 
told  me,  knew  more  of  the  art  than  she 
did  herself.  And  then,  having  come 
to  some  boxwood  alleys,  she  slipped 
away  and  left  Mistress  Jean  and  me 
alone. 

"  They  tell  me,  Mistress  Jean,  that 
love  is  war ;  may  I  ask  what  the  fate 
of  the  prisoners  is  P  " 

"  As  in  real  war,"  she  replied, 
"  those  who  surrender  at  discretion 
receive  but  scant  courtesy,  but  those 
who  make  a  gallant  resistance  are  often 
victorious  in  their  defeat." 

"  I  see  that  you  love  the  old  High- 
land    fashion,    where    the    bridegroom 


The  Greeting  of  Fair  Lips     153 

came  with  force  and  arms  and  bore  the 
bride  away." 

"  Better  swords  and  daggers,"  and 
hearts  that  are  true,  than  silks  and 
satins.  Lowland  fops  and  perfidy." 

"  English  swords  have  crossed  ere  this 
with  Highland  steel,  and  English  hearts 
are  as  tried  and  as  true  as  those  that  beat 
beneath  the  plaid,"  said  I,  coming  to 
the  defence  of  my  English  ancestry. 

"  So  ho  !  Sir  Rebel  ! "  she  cried  in 
glee,  "what  means  this  defence  of  the 
hated  redcoat  ?  Do  you  not  fear  the 
shadow  of  the  great  committee  that 
you  preach  treason  so  openly  ?  "  And 
she  looked  so  bewitching  in  her  little 
triumph  that  I  had  to  thrust  my  hands 
into  my  pockets  and  turn  away,  so 
great  was  the  temptation. 

"  I  will  turn  Highlander,"  said  I, 
*^  if  you  do  not  stop." 

"  Stop  ?  "  she  said  with  the  most  in- 
nocent air  in  the  world. 


1 54  The  Tory  Maid 

"  Aye,"  said  I,  "  for  if  your  High- 
landers have  ever  been  sturdy  knaves, 
the  Frisbys  have  ever  been  quick  where 
bright  eyes  and  ruby  lips  are  concerned, 
and  there  is  no  telHng  what  might  hap- 
pen." And  I  looked  so  determined 
and  fierce  that  she  broke  into  merry 
laughter  in  my  face. 

"  Your  fat€  be  upon  you,"  said  I 
solemnly  ;  and  —  well,  at  that  moment, 
I  heard  Captain  Nicholson  calling  that 
my  horse  was  at  the  door,  waiting  for 
me. 

"  That  means  that  I  must  go,  Mis- 
tress Jean,"  and  the  laughter  died  on 
her  lips,  "  go  to  join  my  comrades  in 
the  North  in  their  struggle  for  the 
Great  Cause.  When  you  hear  of  bat- 
tles and  sieges  and  sudden  deaths,  will 
you  sometimes  think  of  the  young 
rebel  who  rode  with  you  from  the 
Braes  to  Fairlee.^^  For  wherever  he 
mav    be,  whether    in   the   glory  of  the 


The  Greeting  of  Fair  Lips     155 

rush  and  the  sweep  of  the  charge,  or 
the  gloomy  and  dismal  retreat ;  whether 
in  the  camp  on  the  bleak  hillside, 
with  the  cold  north  wind  blowing,  or 
bivouacked  in  the  Southern  savannahs 
warmed  by  the  rays  of  the  sun  ;  in  the 
fatigue  and  the  toil  of  the  marches,  amid 
the  groans  and  cries  of  the  dying,  or 
the  joy  and  triumph  of  the  hour  when 
the  fight  has  been  fought  and  won, 
your  smile  shall  always  be  with  him, 
the  light  of  your  eye  in  his  heart. 
Will  you  think  of  him,  or  forget.  Mis- 
tress Jean  ?  " 

"  I  will  think  of  him."  Her  voice 
was  very  low  and  sweet.  Then  I 
stooped  and  kissed  her  hand,  the  fairest 
hand  that  man  ever  looked  upon. 


CHAPTER    XIV 

THE    RETURN    OF    THE    TORY 

As  I  turned  to  ride  away,  after  bid- 
ding good-bye  to  the  Captain,  I  heard 
a  voice  calHng  me,  and  looking  up,  I 
saw  Mistress  Nancy  at  a  window,  and 
riding  under  it  she  commanded  me  to 
convey  to  Master  Richard  a  tiny  case 
wrapped  in  many  papers. 

"  And  now,  sir,"  said  she,  "  here  is 
something  for  you ; "  and  she  threw 
me  a  little  case,  which,  on  opening 
quickly,  I  saw  contained  a  miniature 
of  a  fair  young  girl,  with  a  wealth  of 
dark  brown  hair,  the  loveliest  eyes  and 
the  sweetest  face. 

"  Mistress  Nancy,"  I  cried,  ''  you 
are  my  guardian  angel."     Placing   the 


The  Return  of  the  Tory     157 

miniature  over  my  heart,  I  threw  her  a 
kisSj  and  rode  on  my  way  rejoicing. 

I  rode  from  Chestertown  to  Fairlee, 
where  I  bade  my  mother  good-bye,  and 
from  there  I  took  up  the  trail  to  the 
North,  riding  into  camp  one  evening 
just  as  the  sun  was  setting. 

I  reported  immediately  to  the  great 
General,  who  thanked  me  for  the  speed 
with  which  I  had  carried  the  despatches 
and  returned.  And  then  I  was  once  more 
among  my  old  comrades  of  the  Line. 

They  crowded  around  me,  one  and 
all,  for  I  had  messages  for  many  of 
them,  and  they  were  eager  for  the  news 
of  old  Kent  and  the  shore,  and  my 
welcome   was   right   royal. 

And  now,  for  a  month  or  so,  disasters 
came  crowding  upon  our  arms  ;  defeat 
and  death  stalked  through  our  ranks, 
and  cast  a  gloom  over  the  cause. 

We  fought  the  fight  at  White  Plains, 
and  when  Fort  Washington  fell  many 


158  The  Tory  Maid 

of  our  Maryland  boys  went  to  the 
hulks  of  old  Jersey  to  find  a  last  resting- 
place  under  the  cold  gray  waters  of 
Wallabout  Bay.  Amid  constant  march- 
ing, skirmishes,  and  defeats  the  months 
slipped  away,  and  the  cold  gloomy  win- 
ter was  upon  us.  Ah,  how  cold  and 
bleak  and  barren  the  hillsides  looked 
after  the  smiling  fields  of  Maryland, 
touched  and  warmed  by  the  Southern 
sun !  And  then  the  cold,  the  bitter 
cold  of  it  all,  the  white  winding  sheet 
of  the  snow  and  the  ice  made  us  shiver 
and  hug  the  fire  of  dry  fence-rails  and 
button  our  threadbare  coats  more 
tightly  around  us,  while  we  looked  in 
despair  at  the  toes  peeping  through  the 
ends  of  our  boots.  But  the  great  Gen- 
eral knew  how  to  warm  the  blood  in  our 
veins  and  drive  the  despair  from  our 
hearts,  when  on  that  bitterlv  cold  Christ- 
mas night  he  led  us  across  the  Delaware 
and  hurled  us  against  the  Hessians. 


The  Return  of  the  Tory     159 

It  is  true  that  we  left  a  trail  of  blood 
as  we  marched,  dyeing  the  snow  with 
its  crimson.  Yet  the  fight  itself  was 
glorious,  and  when  we  came  back  in 
our  triumph  the  cold  and  the  snow  were 
as  nothing.  We  made  sport  of  our  rags 
and  tatters  and  laughed  the  English  to 
scorn. 

Then  again  when  we  struck  them  at 
Princeton  seven  days  later,  threw  the 
dust  in  Cornwallis's  eyes,  and  played 
with  him  as  we  willed,  we  were  ready 
to  follow  our  leader  wherever  he  pointed 
the  way. 

And  so,  after  humbling  the  English, 
we  returned  to  our  camp  for  the  winter, 
and  there  made  ready  for  the  spring, 
when  we  saw  my  Lord  Cornwallis  back 
on  the  Hudson  again. 

Then  we  lay  in  Jersey,  watching 
them  over  in  New  York,  until  far  into 
the  summer,  ready  to  take  up  the 
march  when  the  news  should  come  of 


i6o  The  Tory  Maid 

the  destination  of  the  Enghsh  fleet  that 
lay  ofF  Sandy  Hook. 

At  last  one  day  there  came  a  horse- 
man spurring  fast  from  the  southward, 
bearing  the  news  of  a  vast  fleet  that 
covered  the  waves  of  the  Chesapeake 
and  lay  at  that  moment  off  the  harbor 
of  Baltimore,  threatening  it  with  fire  and 
sword. 

Then  there  was  a  mighty  bustle  in 
the  camp,  and  we  whose  homes  were 
now  in  danger  took  up  the  march  to 
the  southward,  eager  to  meet  the  foe. 

When  we  reached  Philadelphia  we 
found  that  the  enemy  had  entered  the 
Elk,  and  was  now  marching  on  the  city, 
while  the  hastily  called  Maryland  and 
Delaware  volunteers  threw  themselves 
in  the  way,  cutting  ofi^  straggHng  parties 
and  obstructing  the  advance. 

So  we  hurried  on  to  assist  them,  and 
found  ourselves  on  the  evening  of  the 
loth  of  September  at  the  Brandywine, 


The  Return  of  the  Tory     t6i 

with  the  English  advance  but  a  few 
miles   away. 

It  was  here  that  I  met  with  one  of 
the  volunteers,  who  on  hearing  the 
English  were  in  the  Chesapeake  had 
taken  his  rifle  from  the  rack  and  joined 
in  the  defence.  He  came  from  lower 
Kent,  but  told  me  of  the  devastation  all 
through  the  county  of  Cecil,  wherever 
the  enemy  had  laid  its  blighting  hand. 

"  They  tell  me,"  he  said,  "  that  the 
old  Tory,  Charles  Gordon,  whom  they 
ran  out  of  Cecil,  is  with  Lord  Howe, 
and  high  in  his  counsels.  When  they 
arrived  in  the  Elk,  Gordon,  with  a 
body  of  troops,  marched  all  night  and 
attacked  the  house  of  James  Rodolph 
at  dawn.  Rodolph  was  away  from 
home,  and  that  is  the  only  thing  that 
saved  him,  for  they  say  that  Gordon 
swore  that  he  would  hang  him  if  he 
once  caught  him.  As  it  was,  he  gave 
Rodolph's    house    to    the    flames,    and 


1 62  The  Tory  Maid  . 

burned  everything  on  the  place.  '  An 
eye  for  an  eye,'  said  he,  '  Is  a  Highland 
saying  as  well  as  a  Jewish  one.  I 
regret  that  I  cannot  destroy  the  land  as 
well.'  Rodolph,  when  he  heard  of  it, 
stormed  and  swore,  but  he  has  not 
dared  to  venture  within  the  confines  of 
Cecil  since." 

"  Did  Gordon  do  anything  else  ? " 
I  asked. 

"  No.  After  he  burnt  Rodolph  out 
he  tried  to  stop  Lord  Howe  from  pil- 
laging, but  his  lordship  answered,  'You 
have  had  your  turn,  and  now  you  must 
let  the  others  have  theirs,'  and  so  the 
pillaging  went  on." 

But  the  planters  and  the  yeomen 
who  had  risen  at  the  first  alarm  hung 
on  the  flanks  of  Lord  Howe's  army, 
cutting  off  stragglers  and  scouting- 
parties,  and  confining  the  belt  of  deso- 
lation within  narrow  lines. 

At  last  came  the  nth  of  September, 


The  Return  of  the  Tory     163 

the  day  when  we  met  Lord  Howe  at 
the  Brandywine,  and  were  sent  reeling 
back  in  disorderly  retreat,  when  by  a 
skilful  march  they  outflanked  our  right 
wing  and  rolled  it  up. 

And  then  disaster  followed  disaster. 
Paoli  came,  that  grim  and  bloody  sur- 
prise at  the  dead  of  night.  We  had 
marched  with  Wayne  and  gained  the 
rear  of  the  British  column,  and  lay  for 
the  night  in  a  dense  w^ood,  waiting  for 
the  recruits  under  Smallwood,  who  was 
marching  to  join  us,  before  we  began 
our  attack  on  the   British  rear. 

It  was  in  the  early  hours  of  the 
morning,  the  blackest  of  the  night,  the 
hour  before  the  dawn,  when  there  came 
sudden  shots  from  our  pickets,  and 
before  we  could  spring  to  arms  the 
Highland  war-cry  rang  through  the 
forest  and  the  Black  Watch  swept  over 
us.  The  wild  forms  of  the  High- 
landers, the  intense  darkness,  the  sur- 


164  The  Tory  Maid 

prise,  the  din  and  noise  of  the  strife  as 
those  who  could  grasp  their  muskets 
made  a  desperate  stand,  struck  terror 
through  the  camp,  and  ere  the  men 
could  rally  we  were  swept  into  the 
woods  beyond.  It  seemed  to  me,  as  I 
was  borne  along  in  the  press,  I  heard, 
high  over  the  charging  cry  of  the  Scots, 
the  voice  of  the  old  Tory  cheering  his 
men  on.  Certain  it  is  that  I  saw  him 
for  a  moment  by  the  light  of  a  camp- 
fire,  sword  in  hand,  urging  on  his  wild 
Scots,  who  seemed  to  grow  wilder  under 
his  leadership,  as  our  line  melted  away 
before  their  advance. 

Ah !  but  it  was  grim  and  terrible. 
Our  men,  overcome  by  the  surprise 
and  the  rout,  carried  terror  into  the 
camp  of  Smallwood's  recruits,  which  was 
near  at  hand,  and  they,  too,  gave  way. 

But  the  dawn  came  ;  with  it  we  gath- 
ered our  shattered  forces  together  and 
marched  back  to  join  Washington. 


The  Return  of  the  Tory     165 

Philadelphia  fell,  but  the  tide  soon 
turned ;  for  at  Germantown  we  once 
more  met  them  and  avenged  the  sur- 
prise at  Paoli. 

But  the  thing  that  thrilled  us  through 
and  through  and  set  our  banners  high 
was  the  courage  of  our  brothers  of  the 
Line,  who,  thrown  into  Fort  Mifflin, 
held  it  in  the  teeth  of  the  enemy's  fire 
until  every  gun  was  dismounted  and  the 
fort  itself  levelled  to  the  earth,  leaving 
nothing  to  defend.  It  was  a  brave  and 
gallant  action,  and  we  envied  them  for 
their  good  fortune. 

We  had  avenged  Paoli  at  German- 
town,  yet  this  added  another  wreath  to 
our  banner.  It  was  a  thing  to  stir  the 
blood  and  to  set  the  pulses  bounding 
to  hear  how  those  heroes  fought  under 
the  crumbling  walls  of  Mifflin,  and 
prayed  for  the  friendly  cover  of  night 
to  fall  to  hide  them  from  that  storm  of 
fire  and  shell,  and  yet  fought  on. 


CHAPTER   XV 

THE    FLAG    OF    TRUCE 

The  long  hard  winter  soon  came  on, 
and  we  retired  to  Valley  Forge  to  suffer 
and  to  bear  what  was  far  more  deadly 
than  the  English  bullets — the  terrible 
cold  and  desolation  of  that  dreary  place. 
Cold,  bitterly  cold  it  was,  as  the  wind 
came  down  from  the  mountains,  swept 
over  the  broad  fields,  pierced  through 
our  torn  and  tattered  garments,  and 
racked  our  frames  with  pain.  And  yet, 
terrible  as  the  exposure  was,  there 
stands  out  one  bright  day  in  all  that 
dreary  winter,  one  day,  one  hour  in 
which  I  forgot  all  the  cold  and  the 
hardships  and  would  not  have  been 
elsewhere  for  anything  in  the  wide 
world. 


The  Flag  of  Truce         167 

It  was  near  the  setting  of  the  sun  on 
one  of  the  bleakest  and  coldest  days  of 
the  year.  The  sun  itself  was  sinking 
behind  the  distant  hills,  and  the  sky 
was  brilliant  with  its  fiery  javelins, 
which  threw  a  lurid  light  across  the 
cold  gray  heavens,  the  last  protest  of 
departing  day  against  the  approach  of 
the  chill  dismal  night.  The  snow  lay 
heavy  upon  the  ground,  and  spread 
like  a  great  white  pall  over  the  sins  and 
sorrows  of  the  world.  Before  us  stretched 
the  road,  unbroken  and  trackless  ;  not  a 
man  had  passed  that  way,  for  we  stood 
guard  at  the  outpost,  and  the  flicker  of 
the  foeman's  fire  could  be  seen  six  hun- 
dred yards  away,  through  the  gloom. 

"  Lucifer,  but  it  is  cold  !  *'  said  one 
of  the  guard,  as  he  threw  another  rail 
on  the  fire  and  held  his  hands  out  over 
the  flames  to  warm  them. 

"Aye;  Old  Nick  himself  would  not 
be  a  bad  acquaintance  now  —  his  smell 


1 68  The  Tory  Maid 

of  brimstone  and  sulphur  might  warm 
us  up  a  bit/'  said  another. 

We  were  making  the  best  we  could 
of  it,  under  the  lee  of  a  high  bank  by 
the  side  of  the  road,  where  we  had 
cleared  a  space  and  stacked  a  good 
supply  of  dry  fence-rails  to  feed  the 
fire  during  the  night.  The  wind  from 
the  northwest  swept  over  our  heads, 
sheltered  as  we  were  by  the  bank,  and 
we  would  have  defied  the  cold  that 
crept  ever  upward  but  for  the  rags  and 
tatters  that  covered  our  frames.  The 
men  themselves  were  cheerful,  as  they 
sat  hugging  the  fire,  and  laughed  and 
joked  at  their  hardships. 

*'  I  wonder  if  those  Highland  devils 
will  bother  us  to-night?"  asked  one, 
for  the  Black  Watch  held  the  outpost 
down  the  road. 

"  They  will  be  too  busy  warming 
their  knees,"  came  the  reply  from 
across  the  fire,  and  a  laugh  followed. 


The  Flag  of  Truce         169 

"  Hello,  what  is  that  ?  "  for  the  thud 
of  hoofs  was  heard  on  the  road  coming 
from  the  camp. 

"  A  flag  of  truce,  by  George  !  "  said 
the  sergeant.  "  Who  on  earth  wants 
to  go  through  the  Hnes  on  a  night  Hke 
this  P  " 

The  party,  consisting  of  several 
troopers,  an  officer,  and  what  appeared 
to  be  a  woman  on  horseback,  was  soon 
within  hailing  distance,  and  I  heard 
Ringgold's  voice   call  out : 

"  I  say,  Frisby,  are  you  in  charge 
here  ? " 

"  Yes,"  I  replied.     "  What 's  up  ?  " 

"  We  have  a  prisoner  here  who  wishes 
to  go  through  the  lines,  but  I  don't 
know  whether  you  will  permit  her  or 
not." 

"Is  she  fair?"  I  asked.  "For  in 
that  case  she  shall  not  pass  unless  she 
gives  us  a  smile  by  way  of  tribute  as 
she  rides  by/* 


170  The  Tory  Maid 

"  Not  even  if  George  Washington 
so  orders,  sir,"  said  a  voice  that  I 
knew. 

"  By  the  saints,  my  lady  ! "  I  cried, 
and  I  was  by  her  side  in  an  instant. 
"  What  brings  you  here,  and  why 
are    you    going     within     the     Enghsh 


lines  ? 


"Should  not  a  daughter  be  with  her 
father  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  But  those  bloody  English,  with  all 
their  fine  trappings  and  their  feathers  1 
Nay,  my  lady,  you  have  been  disre- 
spectful to  the  Continental  Congress, 
as  I  can  vouch  for.  You  are  our  pris- 
oner, and  I  will  not  let  you  escape  thus, 
to  smile  on  the  wearers  of  his  Majesty's 
uniform." 

But  she  laughed  quite  merrily,  and 
answered  my  threat  with  "  Lieutenant 
Ringgold,  pray  ride  on  with  the  flag 
of  truce." 

"  Dick  Ringgold,"  I  cried  in  my  turn, 


1 


The  Flag  of  Truce        171 

"if  you  take  less  than  ten  minutes  I 
shall  be  your  deadly  enemy  for  life/* 

"All  right,  old  fellow."  Dick  rode 
on  toward  the  enemy's  campfire  with 
the  bugler  until  he  had  gone  about  half 
the  wav,  and  then  we  heard  the  parley 
sounded  and  saw  a  stir  in  the  opposite 
camp. 

"  Mistress  Jean,"  said  I,  returning  to 
the  charge,  "  you  are  perfectly  heartless, 
and  though  I  know  the  redcoats  cannot 
help  but  fall  in  love  with  you,  I  warn 
you  that  if  you  smile  on  any  one  of 
them  I  shall  go  through  the  lines  and 
seek  him  out,  even  into  the  heart  of  the 
city  itself,  though  I  have  to  swing  for 
it." 

"  You  will  never  try  anything  so 
rash  ;  "  and  now  the  laughter  had  gone 
from  her  voice. 

"  That  I  will,  my  lady,"  I  replied,  "  for 
I  would  rather  dance  on  nothing  thart 
know  that  you  belonged  to   another/" 


172  The  Tory  Maid 

"  But  you  must  not,"  said  she. 
*'You  must  not  think  of  such  a  thing. 
You  must  promise  me  never  to  attempt 
it." 

"  Nay,  Mistress  Jean,  that  I  cannot 
promise.  It  would  drive  me  mad  to 
stand  here  on  guard  all  the  winter 
night  and  see  the  lights  of  Philadel- 
phia off  there  in  the  east  ;  to  know 
amid  all  the  gayety  and  the  balls 
you  reign  supreme ;  to  know  I  could 
not  see  you  because  of  the  miserable 
redcoats  that  guard  the  city.  If  they 
were  ten  times  their  number  I  would 
£nd  my  way  through  them  to  be  once 
more  at  your  side.  Mistress  Jean." 

Before  she  could  reply  the  Highland 
officer  broke  in,  for  he  had  ridden  up 
with  Ringgold. 

"  Mistress  Jean,  it  gives  me  pleasure 
to  be  the  first  to  welcome  you  to  our 
lines.  Your  father  told  us  of  your  com- 
ing, and  there  has  been  a  rivalry  between 


The  Flag  of  Truce         173 

us  as  to  who  should  be  the  one  to  escort 
you  to  the  city." 

"  That  was  kind  of  all  of  you  ;  but 
how  did  you  leave  my  father  ? " 

"  Well,  and  eager  for  your  coming/* 

He  was  a  splendid-looking  young 
fellow,  tall,  broad-shouldered,  and  some- 
what bony,  with  a  voice  that  rang  frank 
and  true.  He  was  a  Highlander,  every 
inch  of  him,  and  carried  himself  with  a 
free  and  graceful  carriage,  and  when  I 
heard  him  tell  Mistress  Jean  that  he 
was  a  Farquharson  and  an  old  ally  of 
her  house,  I  knew  I  had  at  last  met  a 
dangerous  rival.  For,  out  of  romances, 
it  is  not  the  villain,  but  the  brave  and 
frank  gentleman  who  is  most  dangerous 
to  the  peace  of  mind  of  lovers,  for  they 
see  in  him  what  they  themselves  most 
admire,  and  by  which  they  hope  to  win 
their  ladies'  love. 

"  Lieutenant  Ringgold,  now,"  said 
Farquharson,    "  I   am   ready  to  receive 


174  The  Tory  Maid 

Mistress  Gordon  from  your  hands,  and 
to  conduct  her  within  our  lines/' 

"  Far  more  ready  than  we  are  to  let 
her  go,"  answered  Dick  gallantly  ;  "  but 
it  is  the  fortune  of  war."  And  then  the 
two  officers  saluted  and  the  exchange 
was  made. 

So  Mistress  Jean  bade  us  all  good-bye 
right  prettily,  and  I,  being  on  the  off 
side  of  her  horse  from  the  others,  seized 
her  hand  as  it  hung  by  her  side  and 
kissed  it  several  times.  She  at  first  did 
not  withdraw  it,  and  then,  bending  over, 
whispered,  "  Do  not  try  to  enter  the 
city,  for  they  will  hang  thee,  and  I  would 
not  lose  so  true  a  friend."  Here  her 
voice  was  very  soft  and  low.  I  kissed 
her  hand  once  again  and  she  was 
gone. 

We  watched  their  dark  shadows  down 
the  road  to  the  Highland  outpost,  as 
they  moved  like  great  blots  across  the 
snow.      I   stood,   I   do  not    know    how 


The  Flag  of  Truce        175 

long,   gazing   after  them,  when    Dick's 
hand  was  on  my  shoulder. 

"  Never  mind,  Frisby,"  said  he,  "  we 
shall  win  the  city  in  the  spring,  and  then 
you  may  win  her  also." 


CHAPTER   XVI 

THE    BALL    OF    MY    LORD    HOWE 

Many  a  night  after  that  last  parting 
I  stood  guard  on  that  dreary  outpost, 
gazing  out  across  the  snow  at  the  dim 
lights  of  the  city  far  to  the  eastward. 
Aye,  for  the  city  was  gay  that  winter, 
gay  with  parties  and  dances,  balls  and 
dinners,  and  the  bells  rang  as  merrily 
as  if  we  were  not  starving  and  dying 
out  on  the  bleak  hillsides.  Aye,  those 
old  burghers  were  warm  and  comfortable 
as  they  sat  by  their  fires,  with  a  glass 
of  their  wine  or  toddy  at  their  side. 

True,  my  Lord  Howe  ruled  the  city 
with  an  iron  hand,  but  he  was  a  gallant 
gentleman,  and  his  officers  made  good 
partners  for  their  fair  daughters  at  the 
balls.     They   were   handsome   in    their 


The  Ball  of  my  Lord  Howe     177 

scarlet  uniforms,  with  their  epaulets  and 
their  sabres,  making,  indeed,  a  very  gal- 
lant show,  while  those  ragged  patriots 
out  upon  the  snow  had  not  shoes  to  their 
feet,  and  were  altogether  too  disreputa- 
ble to  be  admitted  even  to  the  kitchens 
of  their  houses.  Then,  again,  runs 
not  the  Quaker  law,  "  Thou  shalt  not 
iight  "  ?  And  so  the  good  old  burghers 
threw  another  log  on  the  fire  and  sat 
down  to  enjoy  the  cheerful  blaze. 

The  news  came  to  us,  sifted  through 
the  lines  ;  we  heard  of  their  dances  and 
their  balls,  and  everywhere  we  heard 
that  Mistress  Jean  Gordon  was  the  belle 
of  them  all.  The  old  Tory  held  high 
rank  in  the  counsels  of  Lord  Howe, 
and  the  daughter,  by  her  grace  and 
beauty,  reigned  it  over  the  hearts  of 
every  gallant  gentleman  of  his  army. 

We  heard  of  her  refusing  my  Lord 
Paulet  and  several  other  gentlemen, 
noted  among  us  for  their  hard  fighting. 


178  The  Tory  Maid 

whenever  by  chance  we  were  opposed 
to  them.  And  I,  standing  guard  on  the 
outpost,  chafed  in  vain  when  I  heard 
these  tales,  until  one  day  chance  decided 
me  to  risk  all,  to  see  her  once  more 
with  my  own  eyes,  and  perhaps  speak 
to  her. 

There  had  been  a  skirmish  on  the 
outposts  that  day,  and  our  men  had 
captured  an  English  officer,  a  Captain 
of  the  line.  He  was  a  talkative  man, 
and  while  he  was  waiting  to  be  sent  to 
the  rear  as  a  prisoner  we  entertained 
him  at  our  mess  table,  and  he  in  turn 
told  us  the  news  of  the  town. 

"  That  must  be  a  wonderful  country, 
what  do  you  call  it,  that  eastern  shore 
of  yours  ?  "  said  he,  "  if  it  contains 
any  more  beauties  like  Mistress  Jean 
Gordon." 

"  Ah,  the  Tory's  daughter.^  " 

"  Yes.  She  is  the  reigning  belle  of  the 
whole  town,  and  all  our  fellows  are  wild 


The  Ball  of  my  Lord  Howe     179 

about  her.  I  never  saw  so  many  fellows 
in  love  with  one  girl  before,  but  Far- 
quharson  seems  to  have  the  best  of  it, 
while  Lord  Paulet  stamps  and  swears." 

Now,  we  were  loyal  Marylanders  — 
loyal,  at  least,  to  her  wit  and  beauty,  so 
then  and  there  we  proposed  and  drank 
the  health  of  the  Tory  maid,  while  Dick 
chimed  in  with  the  amendment,  "  May 
she  never  marry  a  Britisher,  but  a  patriot 
tried  and  true,"  at  which  our  English 
Captain  good-naturedly  protested  •  and 
while  they  drank  the  toast  I  made  a 
vow  that  ere  a  week  was  past  I  would 
be  within  that  city. 

Fortune  came  my  way,  for  as  I  left 
the  mess-room  that  night  I  ran  against 
Tom  Jones  of  Cresap's  old  company 
of  riflemen  from  the  mountains  of  the 
West,  the  most  daring  and  desperate 
spy  in  all  our  army.  He  was  a  man  of 
powerful  strength,  as  lithe  and  active  as 
a  panther,  while  his  face  was  as  immov- 


i8o  The  Tory  Maid 

able  as  that  of  an  Indian,  with  never  a 
sign  thereon  of  the  thoughts  and  pas- 
sions of  the  man  within.  He  was  clad 
for  the  moment  in  the  dress  of  the  rifle- 
men, a  full  suit  of  buckskin,  leggings, 
hunting-shirt,  and  all,  while  carelessly- 
thrown  across  one  arm  was  his  rifle,  and 
in  his  belt  was  sheathed  the  long  hunting- 
knife. 

"  Lieutenant,"  said  he,  "  I  expect  to 
return  through  your  lines  to-morrow 
night,  so  do  not  fire  before  you  chal- 
lenge." 

"  Come  this  way,  Jones,"  said  I, 
leading  him  aside  from  the  others.  "  I 
do  not  know  which  way  you  are  going, 
but  I  want  you  to  help  me  through  the 
lines  into  the  city.      Can  you  do  so  ?  " 

"  But,  Lieutenant,  they  will  be  want- 
ing to  hang  you  if  you  are  caught." 

"  I  will  take  that  risk.  I  must  be  in 
the  city  within  a  week." 

Jones,  like  most  great  frontiersmen. 


The  Ball  of  my  Lord  Howe     1 8 1 

was  a  man  of  quick  decision  and  few 
words. 

"  Meet  me  in  an  hour,"  said  he,  "at 
the  Yellow  Tavern." 

An  hour  later  found  me  at  the  tavern 
in  full  uniform,  for  it  was  the  only  suit 
I  possessed  in  which  it  would  be  possi- 
ble to  present  myself  before  a  lady,  so 
dilapidated,  torn,  and  ragged  was  my 
wardrobe.  But  I  had  a  great  storm- 
coat  which  hid  the  uniform  and  was  an 
admirable  disguise. 

The  tavern  was  crowded.  As  I 
stood  by  the  fire  I  did  not  at  once  no- 
tice a  quiet,  unassuming  traveller  who 
had  just  entered,  until  he  brushed  past 
my  arm  and  whispered,  "  Follow  me." 
I  did  so  a  few  minutes  later,  for  it  was 
Tom  Jones,  who  looked  for  all  the 
world  as  if  he  was  a  quiet  city  merchant, 
born  and  bred  within  its  limits.  Yet 
you  had  but  to  notice  his  walk,  and  you 
saw  at  once  that  he  was  a  mountaineer. 


1 82  The  Tory  Maid 

for  he  threaded  his  way  through  the 
crowd  as  noiselessly  as  he  did  among 
his  native  forests,  where  the  crack  of  a 
dead  twig  might  mean  his  death  by  a 
hostile  bullet. 

I  followed  him  out  into  the  night, 
and  a  dark  and  dismal  night  it  was  ; 
the  snow  was  falling  heavily  and  you 
could  not  see  three  rods  away. 

"  We  will  follow  the  pike,"  said  he> 
"  until  we  see  their  camp-fire.  They 
will  not  keep  strict  watch  to-night,  and 
we  will  have  to  keep  in  touch  with  the 
landmarks." 

We  trudged  along  through  the  snow 
past  the  outpost  where  I  had  com- 
manded so  many  nights,  keeping  the 
vigils  by  the  weary  hours ;  then  we 
became  more  careful,  as  the  Highland 
outpost  was  but  a  few  yards  away. 

''  They  will  have  their  backs  to  the 
storm,"  said  the  spy,  "  and  though  it  is 
dangerous  to  go  to  the  windward  of  a 


The  Ball  of  my  Lord  Howe     183 

foe,  yet  he  is  not  so  apt  to  hear  us  as 
he  would  be  to  see  us  if  we  tried  the 
leeward  side.  Those  Highlanders  have 
keen  eyes." 

So  we  flanked  the  outpost  to  the 
windward  and  passed  them  safely,  and 
then  Jones  led  me  by  many  little  by- 
paths and  lanes  until  we  came  to  the 
outskirts  of  the  town.  And  though  the 
guard  at  one  time  could  have  touched 
us  as  they  passed,  so  dense  was  the 
storm  that  never  for  a  moment  was  our 
safety  jeoparded. 

At  last  the  houses  became  closer  and 
we  found  ourselves  in  the  town,  while 
every  now  and  then  a  belated  traveller 
met  us,  glanced  our  way  and  passed  on, 
for  by  now  it  was  far  into  the  night. 
But  when  we  reached  the  heart  of  the 
town,  even  at  that  hour,  the  streets 
became  filled  with  carriages,  and  we  met 
many  officers  and  gentlemen,  returning 
from   a  ball.     My  Lord  Howe  enter- 


I  84  The  Tory  Maid 

tained  that  night,  and  it  was  a  sign  of 
loyalty  and  good  faith  for  every  one  to 
attend. 

Though  I  became  interested  in  seeing 
the  muffled  figures  pass  us,  and  the  car- 
riages hurrying  through  the  street,  I 
grew  uneasy  as  I  saw  that  Jones  was 
making  his  way  to  the  centre  of  the 
town,  to  the  very  door  of  Lord  Howe*s 
mansion.  At  last  I  remonstrated  with 
him,  but  Jones  growled  in  answer  i 
"  How  can  you  throw  the  dogs  off  your 
track,  if  the  snow  does  not  fill  it,  but  by 
mixing  it  with  other  tracks  ?  " 

This  was  unanswerable.  I  followed 
him  along  the  street  until  we  were  among 
the  crowd  before  Lord  Howe's  door. 

It  was  a  gay  and  brilliant  scene,  that 
ball  of  my  Lord  Howe,  and  though  it 
was  near  the  end,  the  music  of  the  dance 
still  floated  through  the  wide  entrance, 
while  the  figures  of  the  dancers  flitted 
across  the  windows,  which  were  ablaze 


The  Ball  of  my  Lord  Howe     185 

with  lights.  The  guests  were  fast  leav- 
ing ;  fair  ladies  and  officers  bravely  uni- 
formed were  coming  down  the  steps. 
There  was  a  calling  of  carriages  and  of 
names,  the  slamming  of  doors  and  the 
muffled  roll  of  the  wheels  as  they  drove 
off.  I  was  about  to  move  on  with 
Jones,  when  I  heard  the  major-domo,  a 
sergeant  of  the  guard,  call  out  the  carriage 
of  Colonel  Charles  Gordon,  and  then 
I  would  have  drawn  back,  as  I  had  been 
forced  into  the  front  rank  ;  for,  though 
I  knew  that  she  must  be  at  the  ball,  I 
had  not  thought  to  be  brought  so  sud- 
denly face  to  face  with  her.  But  ere  I 
could  do  so,  she  came  down  the  car- 
peted stairs  leaning  on  her  father's  arm, 
graceful  and  beautiful,  while  by  her  side 
walked  Farquharson  in  full  Highland 
costume,  eager  and  attentive.  A  smile 
was  upon  her  lips  as  she  listened,  and 
then  her  eyes  met  mine.  Her  face  went 
pale,  and  she  was  near  fainting.     Her 


I  86  The  Tory  Maid 

father  caught  her  as  she  sHghtly  reeled, 
and  Farquharson  looked  fiercely  around 
to  see  what  the  cause  was.  But  I  was 
muffled  up,  and  before  he  could  demand 
the  cause  Mistress  Jean  was  eagerly 
declaring  that  it  was  a  mere  nothing  ; 
and,  as  if  to  prove  what  she  said  was 
true,  she  hurried  on  to  the  carriage. 

Farquharson  leaned  for  a  moment 
into  the  carriage  to  bid  them  good- 
night, and  then  it  rolled  off  into  the 
darkness. 


CHAPTER    XVII 

AN    EXCHANGE    OF    COURTESIES 

"  A  NARROW  escape  that  for  you, 
Lieutenant,'*  said  Jones.  "  But  she 
was  a  plucky  lass,  and  now  it  is  time 
for  us  to  be  looking  for  cover/' 

He  turned  down  a  narrow,  quiet 
street  until  we  came  to  a  house  set 
somewhat  back  in  the  yard. 

Jones  now  rapped  very  gently  on 
the  door ;  it  swung  open  as  if  he  was 
expected,  and  a  moment  later  we  found 
ourselves  heartily  welcomed  by  an  old 
Quaker  lady  in  a  little  room  with  a 
bright  fire  burning. 

"  I  thought  thee  would  come. 
Brother  Jones,"  said  she,  "  and  who 
is  this  braw  lad  thou  hast  brought  with 
thee  ^  "     And  she  smiled  on  me. 


1 88  The  Tory  Maid 

"  He  is  one  of  our  Lieutenants,  who 
has  a  sweetheart  in  town,  and  is  willing 
to  risk  his  neck  to  see  her,"  said  Jones 
gruffly,  but  there  was  a  twinkle  in  his 
eye. 

This  completed  my  conquest,  and 
the  motherly  old  soul  proceeded  to 
take  charge  of  me. 

"  Who  is  thy  lady  love  thou  hast 
come  to  see  ?  "  And  when  I  told  her 
that  she  was  a  Tory  she  was  much  dis- 
tressed, but  eager  to  help  me. 

"  The  Good  Book  says  thou  must 
not  fight,  but  it  also  says  thou  must 
help  thy  friends  and  neighbours,  so  I 
will  help  thee." 

But  at  last,  after  chattering  awhile 
she  took  a  candle  and  showed  us  to  our 
rooms.  I  was  soon  lost  in  the  almost 
blissful  comfort  of  clean  white  sheets 
and  a  feather-bed. 

When  I  awoke  next  morning  Jones 
had  already  departed    on   his    mission. 


An  Exchange  of  Courtesies    189 

leaving  me  a  note  telling  me  where  to 
meet  him  the  next  night  on  our  return 
to  camp. 

All  that  day  I  kept  close  to  the 
house,  for  I  did  not  dare  to  venture 
forth  in  the  broad  day,  as  I  was  known 
to  many,  and  it  would  not  have  gone 
well  with  me  if  I  had  met  with  those 
I   knew. 

But  at  last  the  night  began  to  fall, 
and,  bidding  my  kind  hostess  good-bye, 
I  made  my  way  through  the  streets  to 
the  Tory's  house. 

I  soon  found  it  —  a  square  brick 
structure  in  a  quiet  street.  I  noticed, 
as  I  approached  it,  several  dark  alleys 
just  at  the  right  places  for  a  rapid  re- 
treat if  the  worse  should  come  to  the 
worst. 

Then  mv  hand  was  on  the  knocker, 
and  its  fall  startled  me  as  the  clatter 
echoed  far  down  the  street  and  seemed 
to  wake  the  very  dead. 


190  The  Tory  Maid 

A  slave  opened  the  door,  who, 
though  he  glanced  at  me  suspiciously, 
told  me  that  his  mistress  was  at  home. 

Then  in  a  moment  my  storm-coat 
was  off,  and  I  stood  in  the  door  of  the 
drawing-room. 

It  was  a  beautiful  picture,  the  great 
strong  Highlander  on  his  knees  at  the 
feet  of  Mistress  Jean  begging  for  her 
hand,  which  she  seemed  to  be  denying 
him,  for  he  was  growing  more  and 
more  passionate. 

For  a  moment,  as  I  stood  there,  I 
could  feel  my  hair  grow  gray,  but  the 
tumult  and  the  conflict  within  me  were 
short  and  I  turned  to  go,  for  it  seemed 
to  me  that  she  could  not  but  care  for 
so  gallant  a  gentleman. 

But  her  eyes  met  mine,  and  then  for 
a  moment  there  was  terror  in  them, 
and  a  cry  broke  forth  from  her  lips. 

Farquharson,  startled  by  her  gaze, 
turned  also,  and,  seeing  me,  was  quickly 


An  Exchange  of  Courtesies    191 

on  his  feet,  his  face  aflame  with  pas- 
sion. 

"  Sir,"  said  he,  advancing  toward  me, 
'*  do  you  not  know  the  fate  of  eaves- 
droppers "  —  and  then  for  the  first 
time  noticing  my  uniform,  added,  "  and 
spies : 

"  I  know  the  fate  of  those  who  call 
a  gentleman  by  such  names,"  I  re- 
torted coolly. 

"  A  gentleman  ?  "  and  he  laughed. 
"  I  will  have  you  hanged  for  a  dog  of 
a  spy  before  sunrise." 

"  Pardon  me,  sir,  but  you  are  my 
prisoner  until  it  shall  suit  me  to  let 
you  go  free." 

At  this  he  laughed  merrily. 

"Well  said.  Sir  Rebel,'''  he  cried; 
"  but  permit  me  to  pass  before  I  spit 
you  on  my  sword."  And  he  drew  and 
advanced  upon  me. 

"  Permit  me,  sir,  to  use  another  argu- 
ment;" and  I  drew  my  pistol  and  cov- 


192  The  Tory  Maid 

ered  him.  "  Advance  another  step  and 
I  will  blow  your  brains  out." 

He  glanced  at  me  for  a  moment,  but 
did  not  advance.  "And  further,  let  me 
suggest  that  we  are  in  the  presence  of 
a  lady,  and  it  is  not  seemly  for  her  to 
see  the  flash  of  weapons.'* 

At  this  he  put  up  his  sword. 

"  To  whom  do  I  owe  a  lesson  in 
gallantry  ?  "  he  asked  with  a  low  and 
sweeping  bow. 

"James  Frisby,  of  Fairlee,  a  Lieu- 
tenant in  the  Maryland  Line,"  I  replied 
with  equal  courtesy. 

Mistress  Jean  had  stood  as  though 
she  were  turned  to  stone  during  our 
exchange  of  courtesies,  but  now  she 
seemed  to  recover. 

"  Captain  Farquharson,"  she  cried, 
and  she  came  and  stood  between  us, 
"this  is  an  old  friend  of  mine.  He 
saved  my  life  at  the  Braes  when  we 
were  raided  by  the  rebels.     You  must 


An  Exchange  of  Courtesies    193 

promise  me  to  let  him  go  free  out  of 
the  city." 

"  Your  wishes,  Mistress  Jean,  are 
law,"  said  he,  "  and  shall  be  obeyed.  I 
shall  give  him  till  morning  to  escape  in." 

"  Which  I  promptly  accept,"  said  I, 
"with  the  hope  that  I  may  be  able  to 
repay  your  courtesy  if  fortune  should 
bring  you  within  our  lines  some  day." 

And  so  he  bade  Mistress  Jean  fare- 
well, but  as  he  passed  me,  I  whispered 
to  him  : 

"  Sir,  some  words  have  been  said  that 
need  an  explanation." 

"  It  will  give  me  pleasure  to  offer 
you  one  at  any  place  you  may  appoint." 

"  Then  meet  me,"  I  said,  "  two  days 
hence  at  sunrise  on  the  pike,  half-way 
between  the  lines." 

"  With  swords  or  pistols  ?  " 

"  Swords." 

"  I  will  be  there ;  "  and  he  passed  on 
out. 

13 


194  The  Tory  Maid 

When  he  had  gone,  I  turned  to  Mis- 
tress Jean,  who  urged  me  to  leave  at 
once. 

"  You  must  go,"  said  she,  "  for  at 
any  moment  you  may  be  tracked  and 
discovered,  and  then " 

"  And  then  —  what  ?  "  I  answered, 
smihng.  "  Do  you  think,  Mistress 
Jean,  that  I,  who  travelled  for  miles 
through  the  snow  and  the  storm  last 
night  to  catch  one  glimpse  of  your  face, 
that  I,  who  at  last  stand  in  your  pres- 
ence, would  give  a  thought  to  the  noose 
around  my  neck  ?  " 

But  she  would  not  let  me  say  her 
nay,  and  then  her  terror  grew,  until  at 
last  she  told  me  that  Lord  Howe  some- 
times came  home  with  her  father  at 
nine  o'clock  to  talk  over  the  plans  of 
the  spring  campaign,  and  that  every 
moment  she  expected  to  hear  their 
voices  in  the  hall. 

"  The   sight   of  your  face.   Mistress 


An  Exchange  of  Courtesies     195 

Jean,  has  repaid  me  for  my  journey ; 
but  if  you  bid  me  go,  why,  then,  it  is 
fate,  and  go  I  must."  Then  a  thought 
came  to  me.  "  Mistress  Jean,  tell  me 
this  before  I  leave  in  the  enemy's  camp 
all  that  is  dearest  on  earth  to  me :  tell 
me  if  you  love  that  Highlander,  if  you 
care  for  him."  And  she,  who  a  mo- 
ment before  was  urging  me  to  leave, 
stood  silent,  with  her  face  turned  away 
from  me,  with  never  a  word  to  say. 

And  I,  seeing  how  matters  stood, 
took  my  courage  in  my  hands,  and, 
with  a  low  bow,  wished  her  good-bye. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE    CROSSING    OF    SWORDS 

Sunrise,  two  days  later,  found  Mr. 
Richard  Ringgold  and  myself  stamping 
our  feet  in  the  snow  on  the  pike,  half- 
way between  the  hostile  lines. 

"  I  suppose  they  will  let  us  fight  here 
without  interruption,"  said  Dick. 

"  No  danger  from  that,"  I  replied. 
"  We  will  fight  in  that  little  hollow, 
where  the  outposts  cannot  see  us." 

"  Here  they  come,"  said  Dick.  We 
saw  two  officers  approaching  across  the 
snow  from  the  Highland  outpost. 

They  soon  came  up,  and  we  saluted, 
while  Dick  and  Captain  Forbes,  Far- 
quharson's  second,  soon  agreed  upon 
the  preliminaries. 


The  Crossing  of  Swords      197 

"  Will  you  lead  the  way,  gentle- 
men P  "  said  Forbes. 

Dick  and  I  led  them  to  the  little 
hollow  between  the  hills,  where  a  slight 
meadow  formed  a  platform,  as  it  were, 
for  us  to  act  our  drama  upon. 

Since  my  first  duel  with  Rodolph  on 
the  banks  of  the  Elk  I  had  seen  some- 
thing of  war  and  of  battles,  and  con- 
sidered myself  an  old  hand  in  such 
encounters. 

And  so  I  found  myself  looking 
Farquharson  over  and  estimating  his 
strength  and  his  skilly  for  I  knew  him 
to  be  one  of  the  best  swordsmen  among 
the  Highlanders,  while  I  could  claim, 
with  all  due  modesty,  to  be  the  best  in 
the  Maryland  Line. 

He  was  a  nc^able  swordsman,  you 
could  see  that  at  a  glance ;  the  power- 
ful figure,  yet  as  light  and  active  as  a 
cat,  the  muscles  of  his  sword  arm 
telling    of   long    and    patient  handling 


198  The  Tory  Maid 

of  the  weapon,  while  his  cold  gray 
eye  spoke  for  his  coolness  and  deter- 
mination. 

He  glanced  at  me,  as  we  threw  off 
our  coats,  in  almost  an  indifferent  man- 
ner, as  if  he  had  a  duty  to  perform, 
which  was  to  be  done  as  quickly  as  pos- 
sible, the  mere  suppression  of  a  country 
bumpkin  by  a  gentleman  of  fashion.  I 
knew  that  would  change  as  soon  as  our 
swords  crossed,  and  smiled  to  myself 
Then,  being  stripped  to  our  shirts,  we 
took  our  places  and  saluted. 

Click,  and  our  swords  rang  true. 
Though  he  fenced  somewhat  carelessly 
at  first,  there  came  a  surprised  look 
and  a  sudden  change  in  his  manner,  as 
I  parried  a  skilful  thrust  and  touched 
him  lightly  oh  the  shoulder.  He 
seemed  to  realise  that  he  had  no  or- 
dinary swordsman  opposed  to  him,  and 
quickly  brought  into  play  all  his  skill 
and   fierceness   in  attack,  throwing   me 


The  Crossing  of  Swords      199 

on  the  defensive  and  forcing  me  grad- 
ually back. 

It  could  not  last ;  no  strength  could 
stand  it.  When  he  found  that  the 
steel  guard  met  every  attack,  that  every 
thrust  was  parried,  he  relaxed  the  fierce- 
ness of  his  attack  and  began   to  fence 

with  more  skill  and  caution. 

* 

Thus  it  was  we  fenced  for  several 
minutes,  the  clash  of  the  steel  ringing 
out  in  the  cold,  crisp  air  across  the 
snow,  and  it  came  to  my  opponent  that 
he  had  at  last  met  a  swordsman  who 
was  his  equal  in  skill.  From  this  on 
every  moment  he  developed  some  new 
feint,  some  new  attack,  and,  though  I 
met  them  every  one,  it  took  my  utmost 
skill  to  do  so. 

But  at  last  there  came  the  end.  He 
had  assumed  the  offensive  again  and 
was  pressing  hard  upon  me,  when  he 
placed  his  foot  upon  a  loose  stone  in 
the   snow,   which   rolled.      The   sword 


200  The  Tory  Maid 

flew  from  out  his  hand  and  he  was 
down  upon  his  knee. 

My  sword  was  at  his  throat,  and 
then  my  hand  was  stayed,  for  there 
came  before  me  the  vision  of  the  Tory 
maid,  standing  with  face  averted  in  the 
square  brick  house  in  the  city.  That 
she  might  care,  that  she  might  be  in 
terror  then  as  to  the  fate  that  might 
befall  him,  flashed  through  my  brain. 
I  brought  my  sword  to  a  salute,  and 
returned  it  to  its  scabbard. 

"  Sir,"  said  I,  as  Farquharson  rose, 
"  it  is  a  pleasure  to  have  fought  with  so 
gallant  a  gentleman." 

"  And  I,  sir,"  he  returned,  "  am 
happy  to  have  met  so  skilful  a 
swordsman."  And  then,  like  gallant 
men  who  have  fought  and  know  each 
other's  worth,  we  shook  hands  on 
the  spot  where  a  moment  before  our 
blades  were  thirsting  for  each  other's 
blood. 


The  Crossing  of  Swords      201 

"  It  gives  me  pleasure,"  he  con- 
tinued, "  to  withdraw  my  remarks  at 
Colonel  Gordon's,  as  they  arose  from 
a  misapprehension." 

"  I  will  consider  them  as  if  they  had 
never  been  said,"  I  replied,  "  and  I 
beg  of  you,  on  your  return,  to  present 
my  compliments  to  Mistress  Gordon, 
and  tell  her  that  I  send  you  to  her  as 
my  wedding  gift." 

"  Why,  is  she  to  be  married  ?  "  he 
asked  in  a  startled  way. 

"I  believe  so,"  I  answered,  "but  she 
will  tell  you  all  about  it." 

And  so  we  returned  to  the  pike, 
where  we  all  saluted  again,  and  retraced 
our  steps  to  the  lines. 

The  spring  was  late  that  year.  April 
had  come  before  there  came  a  soft 
warm  breeze  from  the  Southland,  wak- 
ing nature  into  life,  and  covering  the 
hard  frozen  face  of  mother  earth 
with  wreaths  and  clouds    of  mist   and 


202  The  Tory  Maid 

moisture.  From  every  hillside,  from 
every  frost-bound  plain,  the  smoke  of 
spring  arose,  and  through  the  air  there 
breathed  the  spirit  of  the  reincarnated 
life  of  the  world. 

How  we  of  the  Southland  hailed  it 
with  joy,  and  drank  in  with  our  lungs 
this  promise  of  a  new  life  !  We  who 
loved  the  sunshine  and  the  balmy 
breezes,  the  great  joy  of  living  amid 
fragrant  fields  and  green -clad  forests, 
we  who  hated  the  storms,  the  wind 
and  cold  of  the  North,  —  ah,  how  the 
blood  in  our  veins  welcomed  this  soft 
caress  of  the  South  !  We  threw  off 
the  terror  of  the  winter,  looked  forward 
with  glee  to  the  opening  of  the  spring 
campaign,  and  counted  in  anticipation 
the  honours  we  were  to  win,  the  glory 
that  would  be  ours. 

New  life  sprang  up  all  through  the 
camp ;  the  troops  left  the  busy  duty 
of  hugging  the  fires,  the  ranks  filled  up. 


The  Crossing  of  Swords      203 

and  order  and  discipline  once  more  be- 
came the  order  of  the  day. 

Rumours  soon  came  creeping  through 
the  lines  of  a  change  in  the  leadership 
of  the  enemy's  forces,  but  as  yet  they 
lay  quietly  within  the  city  and  showed 
not  the  teeth  of  offence.  Thus  we  lay 
on  the  green  hillsides  of  Valley  Forge> 
busily  preparing  for  the  struggle  which 
was  certain  to  come,  until  far  into  the 
spring,  without  a  sign  of  a  movement 
on  the  part  of  the  enemy. 

But  with  May  came  their  new  Com- 
mander-in-Chief, Sir  Henry  Clinton^ 
and  the  departure  of  Lord  Howe,  and 
we  knew  that  the  time  had  at  last  come 
when  some  bold  stroke  would  be 
played  in  the  game  of  war. 

The  gaps  in  our  ranks  had  been 
somewhat  filled,  and  we  were  ready 
and  eager  for  active  service  as  soon 
as  the  great  General  would  give  the 
command. 


204  The  Tory  Maid 

At  last  came  rumours  of  a  retreat, 
that  the  English  were  preparing  to  de- 
sert the  city  and  march  across  the  plains 
of  Jersey  to  where  New  York  lay,  shel- 
tered by  the  waters  of  the  sea  and  the 
rivers.  We  marched  toward  the  Dela- 
ware to  be  ready  to  strike  them  when 
they  moved. 

So,  one  day,  as  I  stood  on  the  out- 
post, guarding  the  nearest  road  to  the 
city,  I  saw  Jones  approaching  at  full 
speed  on  an  old  horse,  which  he  had 
evidently  borrowed.  I  was  ready  for 
his  news. 

"  The  British  are  crossing  the  Del- 
aware ;  we  will  catch  them  in  Jersey 
now  or  never,"  he  cried,  and  then 
he  had  dashed  past  on  his  way  to  head- 
quarters. 

My  little  guard  received  the  news 
with  a  yell,  and  we  looked  forward 
eagerly  for  the  order  to  join  our  regi- 
ment on  the  march. 


The  Crossing  of  Swords      205 

It  was  not  long  in  coming,  and  on 
that  night,  the  i8th  of  June,  we  crossed 
the  Delaware,  and  started  on  the  race 
across  Jersey  that  was  to  end  at 
Monmouth. 


CHAPTER   XIX 

THE    SANDS    OF    MONMOUTH 

For  a  week  we  hung  on  the  flank  of 
the  enemy,  waiting  for  an  opportunity 
to  strike,  as  we  saw  the  immense  train 
form  on  the  riQ-ht  bank  of  the  Delaware 
and  take  up  its  cumbersome  march 
across  the  Jersey  plains. 

With  it  marched  the  whole  force  of 
the  British  army  of  seventeen  thousand 
men,  who  did  their  duty  so  well  that  we 
longed  for  an  opening  in  vain. 

All  through  those  blazing  hot 
days  of  June  we  marched  through  the 
sands  of  Jersey,  ankle  deep  as  we 
trudged  along,  and  it  seemed  as  if  the 
time  for  a  trial  of  strength  would  never 
come.  All  to  the  east  and  south  of  us 
the  great  train  of  their  wagons    crawled 


The  Sands  of  Monmouth     207 

along  through  the  heat  and  the  dust, 
and  the  sun  glinted  and  gleamed  on  the 
points  of  the  bayonets  as  the  mass  of 
their  troops  marched  on. 

Slowly  they  crawled  through  the 
dusty  roads  of  Jersey,  and  slowly  they 
were  crawling  beyond  the  reach  of  our 
arms  into  the  haven  of  safety. 

At  last,  on  the  27th  of  the  month, 
they  reached  the  heights  of  Mon- 
mouth, within  a  day's  march  of  their 
journey's  end,  while  we  lay  five  miles 
away  at  Englishtown,  swearing  low  and 
earnestly  at  our  luck. 

That  night  there  came  news  to  the 
camp  that  put  new  life  in  the  men,  and 
made  them  forget  the  heat  and  the  toil 
of  the  march  ;  the  news  that  the  great 
General  had  decided  to  risk  a  throw  in 
the  morning,  and  that  our  regiment  was 
to  be  with  the  advance. 

And  so,  when  Lee  rode  up  to  take 
command,   we  gave    him    a    cheer,  for 


2o8  The  Tory  Maid 

though  we  disliked  and  distrusted  the 
man,  yet  his  coming  meant  a  fight  in 
the  morning. 

Then  there  was  a  great  stir  in  the 
camp  ;  the  men  saw  to  their  muskets, 
and  the  signs  everywhere  told  of  their 
eager  preparations  for  the  deadly 
struggle  in  the  morning,  while  the 
cheery  laugh  and  the  snatches  of  song 
spoke  well  for  the  spirits  of  the  men  after 
the  long,  toilsome  march  of  the  day. 

The  sun  comes  up  out  of  the  ocean 
early  in  Jersey,  but  even  before  its  rays 
had  cleared  the  pine  tops  our  camp 
was  stirring  with  life,  the  men  preparing 
for  the  advance. 

But  there  seemed  to  be  a  fatality 
about  it  all  ;  a  hand,  as  it  were,  covered 
us  and  held  us  back,  paralyzing  the 
spirit  of  the  men.  Delay  followed 
delay,  and  when  at  last  the  regiments 
took  up  the  line  of  march,  ours  was 
held  back  until  almost  the  last.      The 


The  Sands  of  Monmouth     209 

New  Jersey  volunteers  had  the  post  of 
honour,  as  thev  longed  to  revenge  their 
ruined  homesteads  and  devastated  farms, 
and  then  our  turn   came. 

We  marched  out  of  Englishtown 
into  the  dreary  country  beyond.  On 
every  side  sand  dunes,  former  barriers 
of  the  ocean,  raised  their  crests,  covered 
with  a  straggling  forest  of  stunted  pines 
and  scrub  trees,  which,  in  the  passes  in 
the  hills,  came  down  to  the  road,  dis- 
puting the  passageway,  while  in  the 
shallow  valleys  lay  the  open  fields  and 
marshes.  A  dreary  country  withal, 
but  where  a  small  body  of  troops  could 
hold  the  passes  in  the  hills  against 
many  hundreds  and  make  good  their 
defence. 

We  passed  through  the  defile  in  the 
first  range  of  hills,  crossed  the  low 
valley,  and  then,  after  passing  through 
the  second  defile,  we  had  only  to  cross 
the  one  before  us  to  be  on  the  heights 


14 


21  o  The  Tory  Maid 

overlooking  the  enemy's  position  at 
Freehold. 

As  we  approached  this  last  pass  in 
the  hills  we  were  surprised  to  see  a 
steady  stream  of  our  troops  coming 
back  in  disorder  through  the  gap. 
The  men  were  retreating  doggedly  in 
broken  ranks,  and  turning,  as  they 
trudged  along,  to  look  back,  as  if  with 
half  a  mind  to  return. 

As  they  came  streaming  past  our 
advance  I  called  to  a  sergeant,  an  old 
backwoodsman  whose  courage  I  knew, 
and  asked  him  of  the  battle  and  why 
he  was   not  fighting. 

"Fight?"  he  cried  indignantly, 
"why,  damn  it.  Lieutenant,  they  will 
not  let  us  fight.  They  ordered  us  to 
retreat  before  a   musket  was  fired." 

At  that  moment  Captain  Mercer,  an 
aide  of  the  staff  of  General  Lee,  rode  up 
to  Colonel  Ramsay,  who  was  near  me. 

He  delivered   an   order   rapidly,  and 


The  Sands  of  Monmouth     21 1 

then  I  heard  Ramsay's  voice  ring  out 
angrily.  "  Retreat  ?  "  he  cried.  "  By 
whose  order  ?  " 

"  By  the  order  of  General  Lee." 

"  But,"  he  protested  hotly,  "we  have 
not  seen  the  enemy  yet." 

Mercer  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  I 
only  carry   the  order,"  he  said. 

The  stream  of  fugitives  grew  rapidly, 
becoming  more  disorderly,  showing  at 
every  step  the  spread  of  the  panic  and 
the  rout,  as  Colonel  Ramsay  stopped  the 
advance  and  gave  the  order  to  retreat. 

Slowly  and  reluctantly  we  obeyed, 
and  as  we  retired  through  the  second 
pass  in  the  hills  we  saw  the  British  gain 
the  opposite  ridge  and  advance  with 
cheers  on  the  disorderly  flying  mass  in 
the  sandy  valley  behind. 

Every  moment  the  press  of  the  tugi- 
tives  grew  greater,  and  though  we  still 
maintained  our  formation  and  marched 
as  on  parade  the  retreat  had  turned  into 


212  The  Tory  Maid 

a  rout.  On  every  side  and  in  our  rear 
the  broken  ranks  of  the  army  poured 
past,  demorahsed  and  in  despair,  and 
ever  nearer  came  the  musketry  and  the 
cheers  of  the  advancing  EngHsh. 

"  They  will  catch  us  before  we  get 
through  the  gap,"  said  Dick,  looking 
at  the  pass  in  front  of  us. 

"  Then  we  will  fight  anyhow,"  I 
replied,  "  and  General  Lee  can  go  to 
the  devil." 

Whereupon  our  spirits  began  to  pick 
up,  and  the  men  retreated  more  slowly 
than  ever,  glancing  over  their  shoulders 
to  see  how  near  the  head  of  the  British 
column  was. 

At  last  we  came  to  the  foot  of 
the  first  pass,  with  its  hills  heavily 
covered  with  scrub  pines.  Behind  us 
stretched  the  fields  of  broken  troops,  and 
we  could  see  the  red  line  of  the  British 
as  they  debouched  upon  the  plain 
and  drove   the   patriots   before  them. 


The  Sands  of  Monmouth     213 

It  was  a  wild  scene  of  confusion  and 
disorder,  of  demoralised  retreat  and 
rout ;  and  then  something  happened. 

There  was  a  stir  in  the  pass  in  our 
front,  a  clatter  of  hoofs,  and  there 
appeared  before  us  the  General  with 
his  staff.  He  towered  there  with  his 
great  figure,  a  veritable  god  of  war  and 
of  wrath. 

For  a  moment  his  eye  swept  the 
field,  and  his  face  flushed  crimson  with 
indignation  and  anger,  as  he  saw  the 
best  troops  of  his  army  flying  like 
sheep  before  the  enemy.  There  was 
a  storm  in  the  air,  and  then,  as  Lee 
rode  up,  it  broke. 

We  heard  his  excited  "  Sir,  sir ! " 
and  the  General's  angry  tones,  and 
then  dismissing  him  contemptuously, 
he  called  to  Hamilton  to  ask  if  there 
was  a  regiment  which  could  stop  the 
advance. 

Ramsay  sprang  forward. 


2  14  The  Tory  Maid 

"  My  regiment  is  ready,  General." 

"  If  you  stop  them  ten  minutes  until 
1  form,  you  will  save  the  army." 

"  I  will  stop  them  or  fall,"  cried 
Ramsay,  and,  turning  to  us,  he  gave 
the  order  to  "  About  face,"  and  then 
crying  that  the  General  relied  on  us 
to  save  the  army,  he  led  us  in  the 
charge. 

Not  a  moment  too  soon,  for,  as  the 
press  of  the  fugitives  was  brushed  aside 
by  our  advance,  mingling  in  the  midst 
of  the  disorderly  mass,  came  the  red  line 
of  the  British,  cheering  and  victorious. 

But  suddenly  the  flying  mass  dis- 
appeared, and  in  their  place  came  the 
yell  of  the  Maryland  Line,  the  long 
array  of  their  bayonets  bent  to  the 
charge,  with  all  the  fury  and  weight  of 
their  onset. 

For  a  moment  the  red  line  hesitated  ; 
then  an  oflicer,  who  looked  strangely 
familiar,  sprang  forward,  shouting : 


The  Sands  of  Monmouth     215 

"  They  are  nothing  but  dogs  of 
rebels  ;  charge  and  break  them." 

The  red  line  answered  with  a  cheer, 
for  their  fighting  blood  was  up,  and 
they  dashed  forward  to  meet  us. 

Then  came  such  a  clash  of  steel  as  is 
seldom  heard,  as  the  King's  Grenadiers 
and  the  Maryland  Line  met  in  the 
shock  of  the  charge.  For  a  moment 
so  close  was  the  press  that  we  could 
not  wield  our  arms,  and  men  fell, 
spitted  on  each  other's  bayonets. 

Then  came  a  deadly  struggle,  as  men 
fought  desperately,  hand  to  hand,  and 
the  lines  swayed  backward  and  forward 
as  the  weight  of  the  numbers  told. 
The  ground  was  lost  and  gained,  strug- 
gled for  and  won  over  and  over,  while 
the  dead  lay  in  heaps  under  our  feet. 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  this  deadly 
struggle,  when  I  was  fighting  sword  In 
hand  amid  the  press  of  bayonets  for 
my  very  life,  that  I   saw  Ramsay,  who 


2i6  The  Tory  Maid 

was  near,  cheering  on  his  men,  come 
face  to  face  with  the  officer  who  led  the 
charge  of  the  Grenadiers.  Then,  in 
that  storm  centre,  around  which  the 
roar  of  battle  raged,  there  was  a  flash 
of  steel  and  the  swords  crossed.  But 
in  the  fury  of  the  battle  duels  are  short 
and  fierce,  and  I  saw  Ramsay,  who  was 
already  covered  with  wounds,  falter  for 
a  moment,  as  the  other  lunged,  and 
then  he  was  down  among  the  slain. 

Our  line  hesitated  as  Ramsay  fell, 
and  the  English  pressed  on  with  a 
cheer.  But  1  sprang  forward,  shouting 
to  the  men  to  save  their  Colonel,  and 
they,  answering  my  call,  forced  the 
English  back,  until  I  stood  by  Ram- 
say's body.  But  only  for  a  mom^ent ; 
before  we  could  raise  Ramsay  gently 
up  and  bear  him  off  the  field,  there 
came  another  charge  of  the  Grenadiers 
that  forced  us  off  our  feet  and  hurled 
us  backward,  fighting  desperately,  leav- 


The  Sands  of  Monmouth     217 

ing  the  body  of  our  Colonel  In  the 
hands  of  the  enemy.  But  in  the  melee 
I  found  my  sword  crossing  that  of  the 
officer  who  had  fought  with  Ramsay, 
and  instantly  I  attacked  him  fiercely, 
for  I  was  burning  to  avenge  Ramsay's 
fall.  But  he,  with  ease  and  coolness, 
parried  all  my  thrusts  and  played  with 
me  as  if  I  were  but  a  child.  Then,  as 
I  was  growing  desperate,  he  called  to  me, 
"  Nay,  lad,  go  try  your  sword  on  some 
one  else  and  leave  an  old  Scot  alone. 
I  would  not  hurt  you  for  the  world." 

I  started  and  let  the  point  of  my 
sword  fall,  for  it  was  the  voice  of  the 
old  Tory,  whom  I  had  not  before  rec- 
ognised in  the  confusion  of  the  fight. 
This  slight  hesitation  almost  led  to  my 
capture,  for  I  had  been  fighting  in  ad- 
vance of  our  line,  and  now  I  found 
myself  in  the  midst  of  the  English 
troops.  So,  saluting  the  old  Tory 
hastily,  I   regained  our  lines. 


21 8  The  Tory  Maid 

Then,  fighting  foot  by  foot  and  inch 
by  inch,  we  contested  their  advance,  as 
the  weight  of  numbers  bore  us  back- 
ward up  the  hill  into  the  pines.  But 
every  minute  gained  meant  the  salva- 
tion of  the  army. 

Ah,  it  was  hot  work  there,  ankle 
deep  in  the  sand,  with  the  broiling  sun 
above  us,  while  the  smoke  and  the  dust 
of  the  conflict  filled  our  throats  and 
eyes  ;  but  we  staggered  on  and  fought 
bHndly,  desperately,  amid  the  din  and 
the  carnage. 

Ten  minutes,  twenty  minutes  —  ah, 
there  it  is  at  last,  and  the  roar  of  the 
opening  battle  broke  out  to  the  right 
and  left  of  us,  as  the  re-formed  regi- 
ments went  into  the  fight. 

Then  to  our  left  came  the  high  pierc- 
ing yell  of  our  brothers  of  the  Line,  and 
we  knew  that  the  British  were  falling 
back  before  them.  The  Grenadiers 
struggled  on  for  a  moment  longer,  but 


The  Sands  of  Monmouth     219 

the  force  of  their  charge  was  spent,  and 
the  fire  of  the  new  regiments  fDrced 
them  back  in  turn. 

But  it  was  only  for  awhile,  for  they 
re-formed,  and,  under  the  leadership 
of  the  gallant  Monkton,  hurled  them- 
selves upon  us  once  again. 

Monkton  fell,  and  their  lines  shriv- 
elled up  under  our  fire.  Then,  as  it 
was  near  the  setting  of  the  sun,  Wash- 
ington, glancing  over  the  field,  saw  that 
the  time  had  come  and  ordered  the 
advance. 

Our  whole  line  sprang  forward,  and, 
though  we  had  borne  the  brunt,  the  toil, 
and  heat  of  the  day,  not  a  man  faltered. 
As  the  long  line  swept  forward  the 
British  slowly  retreated  before  us.  We 
drove  them  across  the  plain  and  through 
the  second  pass,  where  night  overtook 
us  and  stopped  our  pursuit. 

But  then,  when  the  fever  of  the 
battle    left    us,   a    great    fatigue    seized 


220  The  Tory  Maid 

hold  of  our  limbs,  the  men  sank  to  the 
earth  as  they  stood,  and  slept  from  very 
exhaustion. 

But  we  were  soon  to  be  aroused. 

Through  the  darkness  came  the 
sound  of  a  horse's  hoofs,  and  a  voice, 
asking  for  Ramsay's  regiment.  I  sprang 
up,  answering,  and  saw  approaching  a 
body  of  horsemen.  The  foremost  rider 
seemed  an  immense  figure,  as  he  ad- 
vanced in  the  darkness;  but  I,  who  had 
seen  him  often  before,  knew  him  to  be 
the  great  General. 

I  immediately  gave  the  alarm,  and 
the  men  sprang  to  their  feet  and  pre- 
sented arms. 

And  then,  there  under  the  pines,  by 
the  light  of  the  stars,  the  General  rode 
down  our  line,  and,  coming  to  the 
centre,  we  felt  his  glance  fall  over  our 
ranks. 

"  Men  of  Maryland,"  spoke  Wash- 
ington, and  his  voice  rang  clear  through 


The  Sands  of  Monmouth     221 

the  pines,  "once  before  at  Long  Island 
you  saved  the  army,  and  to-day,  for  a 
second  time,  you  have  done  so  by  your 
courage  and  tenacity.  I  thank  you  in 
the  name  of  the  army  and  the  nation  ; 
I  thank  you  for  myself" 

A  wild  yell  that  broke  from  the  Line 
was  his  answer.  We  forgot  our  fatigue 
and  our  wounds  in  the  pride  of  the 
moment. 


CHAPTER   XX 

IN    THE    LINES    OF    THE    ENEMY 

It  was  near  the  end  of  the  first  watch 
when  an  order  came  to  me  to  pick  out 
several  men,  go  forward,  feel  the  en- 
emy's outposts,  and  see  if  the  enemy 
was  still  retreating. 

Making  my  choice,  I  passed  our 
pickets  with  three  men,  and  made  my 
way  cautiously  to  the  last  pass  in  the 
hills  which  was  in  the  enemy's  posses- 
sion at  nightfall.  But  not  a  sign  of 
their  pickets  or  troops  could  I  find  ;  so 
I  boldly  advanced  in  the  pass,  and, 
crossing  the  ridge,  found  myself  on  the 
heights  overlooking  Freehold.  It  was 
a  small  town  of  scattered  houses,  and 
beyond  it  I  could  see  the  lights  of  the 
British  camp-fires. 


In  the  Lines  of  the  Enemy     223 

But  as  the  heights  were  not  near 
enough  for  our  purpose,  we  descended 
into  the  plain,  and  carefully  made  our 
way  toward  the  town,  where  I  knew 
certain  patriots  were,  who,  if  I  could 
once  get  speech  with  them,  would  tell 
me  the  whole  plans  of  the  enemy. 

We  could  hear  the  tramp  of  feet  at 
the  further  side  of  the  village,  and  all 
the  sounds  of  an  army  in  retreat.  Be- 
ing now  so  close  to  them,  and  in  great 
danger,  we  moved  with  the  utmost  cau- 
tion. Near  at  hand,  on  the  outskirts 
of  the  town,  stood  a  large,  square  stone 
house,  separated  from  the  rest  of  the 
houses  by  an  immense  garden.  Having 
found  a  break  in  the  hedge,  we  entered. 

It  was  an  old  garden,  filled  with  box- 
wood walks  and  flowers  run  wild.  Very 
prim  at  one  time  it  must  have  been  ; 
but,  now  that  the  war  had  helped  the 
return  to  nature,  it  was  a  wild  and 
tangled  mass. 


224  The  Tory  Maid 

Making  our  way  through  the  garden, 
a  light  was  suddenly  thrown  upon  our 
path,  and,  glancing  up,  I  saw  that  it 
came  from  a  window  which,  though  it 
was  on  the  first  floor  of  the  house,  was 
yet  some  distance  from  the  ground. 

Then  the  figure  of  a  woman  crossed 
the  window,  stopping  for  a  moment  to 
look  out,  while  we  stood  in  the  shadow 
of  the  hedge,  holding  our  breath.  But 
she  passed  on,  and  I,  determining  to 
see  into  the  room  to  discover  whether 
it  contained  friend  or  foe,  quickly 
gained  the  shelter  of  the  wall  of  the 
house.  The  wall  was  of  rough  hewn 
stone,  and  with  the  help  of  my  com- 
rades' shoulders,  I  raised  myself  high 
enough  to  glance  over  the  window-sill, 
and  what  I  saw  there  made  me  drop  to 
the  ground  quickly. 

Then,  whispering  to  my  comrades  to 
stay  where  they  were,  I  made  my  way 
to  the  rear  entrance  of  the  house,  and. 


In  the  Lines  of  the  Enemy     225 

finding  the  door  unfastened,  softly  en- 
tered the  hall ;  and  then  I  was  standing 
in  the  door  of  the  room  from  which  the 
light  came. 

A  lamp  stood  on  a  table  near  a  long 
horse-hair  sofa  with  spindle  legs,  on 
which  lay  the  figure  of  a  man.  The 
coat  had  been  cut  from  his  shoulder, 
which  was  swathed  in  many  bandages, 
while  the  blood-stained  rags  on  the 
table  and  the  floor  told  of  the  serious- 
ness of  the  wound. 

A  slender  figure  was  bending  over 
him,  gently  arranging  a  pillow  under 
his  head. 

"  Do  you  feel  easier  now,  father?  " 

"Yes,  lassie."  Then,  a  moment 
later,  "  Why  does  not  Clinton  send  me 
a  carriage  ^  He  surely  does  not  intend 
to  desert  me  here." 

"  Captain  Farquharson  is  searching 
for  one,"  she  answered.  And  then 
turning  to  the  table,  she  saw  me  stand- 
15 


2  26  The  Tory  Maid 

ing  in  the  doorway.  The  colour  left  her 
face ;  she  gave  a  little  cry,  for  she 
thought  there  were  many  men  behind 
me,  and  that  all  was  lost.  So,  quickly 
putting  my  finger  to  my  lips,  I  stepped 
back  into  the  darkness  of  the  hall,  and 
as  I  did  so,  I  heard  the  old  Tory  ask, 
"  What 's  that  ?  " 

"  It  was  nothing,"  she  answered.  "  I 
thought  I  saw  a  ghost." 

I  stood  there  in  the  broad  window 
waiting,  for  I  knew  she  would  come. 

Below  me  was  the  garden,  heavy- 
scented  with  the  odour  of  flowers,  and 
the  hum  of  the  night  insects  was  every- 
where in  the  air.  Close  to  the  wall  I 
saw  the  figures  of  my  scouts.  The 
noise  of  the  tramp  of  feet,  the  creak  of 
waggons,  and  the  voice  of  command 
came  to    me  from   the  village  street. 

At  last  she  came  and  stood  before 
me.  In  her  eyes  were  great  pain  and 
fear  and  suffering. 


In  the  Lines  of  the  Enemy     227 

"  Tell  me,"  she  asked  anxiously, 
"  is  there  any  danger  for  him  ? " 

"  More  danger  for  me  than  for  him," 
I  replied.  "  The  whole  American  ad- 
vance guard  consists  of  three  men  and  my- 
self; the  rest  will  follow  in  the  morning." 

"  Ah,"  she  cried,  and  there  was  hope 
once  more  in  her  voice ;  "  then  we  can 
escape." 

"If  you  can  move  your  father  by 
sunrise,  yes,"  I  replied. 

"  But  you,"  she  said,  and  there  was 
new  anxiety  in  her  voice  ;  "  you  are  in 
great  danger  here.  When  the  soldiers 
come  to  remove  father  they  will  take 
you   prisoner." 

"  I  care  not,  Mistress  Jean,"  I  an- 
swered, "  for  your  eyes  have  held  me 
prisoner  for  many  a  long  day,  and  all 
the  prison  bars  in  the  world  are  nothing 
to  me  so  long  as  I  can  look  into  them." 

"  Nay,"  she  said,  "  you  must  not 
say  such  things   to  me." 


2  28  The  Tory  Maid 

And  I,  taking  this  as  a  confirmation 
of  all  my  fears  and  that  at  last  Farquhar- 
son  had  succeeded  in  his  suit,  would 
have  bade  her  good-bye  and  gone  my 
way.  But  before  I  went  I  told  her  of 
my  wishes  for  her  happiness,  and  that 
I  had  met  Farquharson  and  knew  of 
his  skill  and  courage. 

"  Farquharson  ?  "  and  her  eyes  were 
wide  open  in  surprise.  "  I  really  be- 
lieve you  think  I  am  going  to  marry 
him ;  "  and  she  laughed  so  softly,  be- 
witchingly,  that  — 

"Jean,  Jean,"  I  cried,  now  that  hope 
and  life  had  come  back  with  a  rush, 
"  Jean,  do  you  know  that  I  love  you  ; 
that  I  love  the  very  ground  on  which 
you  walk,  the  sunbeams  in  your  hair, 
the  very  air  you  breathe  ?  Ah  !  Jean  —  " 
But  at  that  moment  came  the  voice  of 
the  Tory  calling  her  and  the  tramp  of 
feet  on  the  porch. 

"  Let  me  go,"  she  cried,  for  I   held 


In  the  Lines  of  the  Enemy     229 

her  hands  in  mine;  "and  fly,  —  that  is 
the  guard.'* 

"  Nay,"  said  I,  "  not  till  you  give 
me  a  kiss.  I  will  stay  here  and  be 
captured  first." 

There  was  a  moment's  hesitation, 
and  then  a  flash  of  white  arms,  and  the 
softest  caress  —  ah,  such  a  caress  that 
the  memory  of  it  will  go  with  me  to 
the  grave.     And  then  she  was  gone. 

And  I,  not  wishing  to  be  captured 
now,  slipped  through  the  rear  door  to 
my  men,  and  a  short  time  later,  having 
satisfied  ourselves  of  the  retreat  of  the 
enemy's  forces,  we  made  our  way  back 
over  the  hills  to  report  to  the  General. 

We  followed  the  enemy  closely  the 
next  day,  and  did  not  draw  off  until  we 
saw  them  beyond  our  reach  at  Sandy 
Hook. 

Then  we  took  our  way  to  the  Jersey 
hills,  and  lay  there  for  a  time  watching 
the  enemy  in  New  York. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE    PASSING    OF    YEARS 

Then  came  a  long  period  when  it 
seemed  almost  as  if  peace  had  settled 
over  the  land,  so  seldom  did  the  rattle 
of  musket  fire  or  the  angry  flash  of 
guns  break  the  quiet  repose  of  the 
Jersey  plains  and  farms. 

Far  across  the  marshes  lay  New 
York,  and  behind  its  walls  and  the 
broad  sweep  of  the  waters  the  British 
army  rested  safe,  while  the  army  of  the 
patriots,  scattered  among  the  forests, 
woods,  and  hills  of  Jersey  and  New 
York,  lived,  like  Robin  Hood's  follow- 
ers of  old,  and  waited  while  the  wheel 
of  fortune  turned. 

A  year  went  by,  when  at  the  taking 
of   Paulus    Hook    I    first    heard    news 


The  Passing  of  Years        231 

of  the  welfare  of  the  Tory  and  the 
maid,  since  the  night  of  the  Monmouth 
retreat. 

It  was  after  an  all-night  march  through 
the  marshes  of  Jersey,  often  breast- 
high  in  the  water,  that  we  made  a  silent, 
deadly  charge  with  the  bayonet  on  the 
enemy's  fort,  and  carried  it  before  the 
sun  had  risen. 

We  were  retiring  rapidly,  after  secur- 
ing our  prisoners,  when  one  of  my  men 
called  to  me :  "  Captain,  here 's  one 
of  those  Highland  chiefs  knocked  on 
the  head." 

1  went  to  him  and  found  that  it  was 
Farquharson,  who  had  received  an  ugly 
blow  on  the  head  from  a  clubbed 
musket. 

A  httle  whiskey  between  his  teeth 
and  water  on  his  face  revived  him,  and 
I  was  able,  with  the  help  of  several 
men,  to  carry  him  along  with  our 
party. 


232  The  Tory  Maid 

We  made  good  our  retreat,  and  when 
several  days  later  I  was  in  the  main 
camp  of  the  army,  I  went  to  the  quar- 
ters where  the  prisoners  were  detained, 
and  there  I  again  met  Farquharson. 

"  Captain,"  said  he,  smiling,  for  he 
had  almost  recovered  from  his  wound, 
"  there  is  no  entering  a  contest  against 
you  ;  fortune  is  always  on  your  side.'* 

"  My  turn  will  come,"  I  answered  ; 
"  but  is  there  anything  I  can  do  for 
you  ? '' 

"  I  am  afraid  not,  unless  you  bribe 
the  guards  to  let  me  escape." 

"  That  would  be  clear  against  the 
articles  of  war,"  I  replied.  We  fell  to 
talking,  and  then  it  was  I  heard  of  the 
Tory  and  his  daughter. 

"  It  was  about  Christmas  time,"  said 
Farquharson,  "  that  the  King  sent  a 
message  over  the  sea,  granting  him  a 
pardon  for  the  part  he  had  taken  in 
*45,  for  you   know   he  was   out    then. 


The  Passing  of  Years        233 

The  Sea  Raven  was  about  to  clear  in  a 
week  for  Glasgow,  and  a  sudden  long- 
ing seemed  to  seize  him  to  see  once 
more  the  dash  of  the  waters  through 
the  Braes  of  Mar  and  the  heather- 
crowned  hills  of  old  Aberdeen  ;  and  so, 
within  a  week,  they  had  sailed  away  ; 
and  as  he  left  he  said  to  me :  '  A 
revolt  drove  me  from  old  Scotland  ; 
another  sends  me  back  again.  I  won- 
der where  fortune  will  end  my  days/ 
It  is  a  strange  fortune  that  has  followed 
him  through  life." 

"  It  is,  indeed,"  I  replied. 

So  they  sailed  away  over  the  seas, 
gone  back  to  their  own  land  and 
people ;  and  between  that  land  and 
mine  burned  high  the  flame  of  war. 
But  through  the  flame  and  across  the 
broad  stretch  of  the  waters,  I  saw  the 
form  of  the  maid  beckoning  me  on, 
and  though  my  hope  was  well-nigh 
gone,    I   buckled    tight  my   sword-belt 


2  34  The  Tory  Maid 

and  doggedly  went  on,  —  went  on, 
through  the  long  march  to  the  south- 
ward, the  toil,  the  hunger,  and  the 
defeat  of  the  Camden  campaign. 

The  great  triumph  of  Eutaw  Springs 
and  Cowpens,  as  we  drove  back  Corn- 
wallis  from  the  hill  country  to  the 
shore,  rolled  back  the  tide  of  invasion 
and  drowned  it  in  the  sea. 

A  year  went  by,  bringing  me  adven- 
tures not  a  few,  and  with  the  adven- 
tures came  wounds  and  honours ;  and 
when  there  came  the  news  of  the 
leaguer  of  Yorktown,  it  found  me  a 
full  Colonel  in  the  army  of  the  South. 

It  was  not  my  fortune  to  be  present 
at  that  last  great  feat  of  our  arms,  when 
the  great  General  struck  the  blow  that 
freed  us  for  ever  from  the  tyranny  of 
the   King. 

But  when  the  news  came  down  to 
us  in  the  savannahs  of  the  South  we 
hailed    it    with   joy,    for    we   saw   once 


The  Passing  of  Years        235 

more  before  us  the  quiet,  smiling  fields 
of  Maryland,  with  the  ease  and  com- 
fort and  plenty  of  it  all  that  awaited 
but  our  coming  to  repay  us  for  the 
years  of  strife  and  blood. 

And  then  at  last  came  the  order  for 
us  to  take  up  the  homeward  march. 
The  men  took  up  the  trail  with  as 
jaunty  a  step  as  when  they  first 
marched  to  the  northward,  long  years 
before.  The  gay  uniforms  were  faded 
and  gone  ;  rags  and  tatters  had  taken 
their  places,  while  of  the  brave  banner 
that  was  flung  to  the  breeze  at  the 
Head  of  Elk  nothing  remained  but 
the  staff  and  a  few  ribbons  that  flaunted 
therefrom. 

But  every  tatter  told  the  tale  of  a 
fight  where  the  shot  and  shell  had  torn 
it  as  it  waved  above  the  charging  line, 
the  deadly  struggle  of  the  hand  to 
hand,  or  marked  the  slow  and  sullen 
retreat. 


236  The  Tory  Maid 

The  men  themselves  were  hardy  and 
bronzed ;  from  their  ragged  caps  to 
their  soleless  shoes  they  bore  the  stamp 
of  veterans.  They  showed  the  signs  of 
their  training  in  the  angry  school  of  war  ; 
wide  indeed  w^as  the  difference  between 
the  gay  volunteers  of '76  and  the  hardy 
veterans  of  '82.  We  sw^ung  along  in 
our  homeward  march  with  a  right  good- 
will, and  at  last  came  to  the  broad 
Potomac  and  saw  the  hills  of  Maryland 
beyond. 

Now  the  river  itself  to  the  low  water- 
line  of  the  southern  bank  is  within  the 
boundaries  of  Maryland.  Wishing  to 
be  the  first  across  the  line,  I  rode  my 
horse  in  to  the  saddle-girths,  and  let 
him  drink  thereof 

A  day  later  brought  us  to  Annapolis, 
where  we  received  the  thanks  of  the 
State  authorities,  and  with  all  due  form 
and  ceremony  obtained  our  discharge 
and  then  dispersed  to  our  homes. 


The  Passing  of  Years        237 

That  very  day  I  took  a  canoe,  and, 
crossing  the  bay,  found  myself  again  on 
the  steps  of  Fairlee. 

Once  more  my  mother  leaned  on  my 
arm,  and,  looking  up  at  her  tall,  broad- 
shouldered  son,  with  his  epaulets  of  a 
Colonel,  bronzed  face,  and  hardy  bear- 
ing, seemed  proud  and  happy. 


CHAPTER   XXII 

THE    COMING    OF    THE     MAID 

Many  months  had  passed  away, 
spring  had  come  again,  and  the  fair  city 
of  Annapolis  lay  in  a  mass  of  flowers. 
The  vivid  green  of  the  old  trees  cast  a 
delightful  shade  over  all,  tempting  one 
to  stroll  through  the  quiet  streets  and 
byways,  past  the  moss-grown  walls,  the 
old-fashioned  gardens,  buried  in  roses, 
and  the  stately,  proud  mansions  of  many 
of  Maryland's  best  and  bravest. 

I  was  standing  on  a  step  and  above 
me  stood  Mistresses  Polly  and  Betsy 
Johnson,  who  were  railing  at  me  now 
that  I  no  longer  wore  a  uniform  and 
was  simply  a  plain  member  of  the 
Legislature. 


The  Coming  of  the  Maid     239 

"  He  looked  so  fine  in  his  brass 
buttons,"  said  Mistress  Polly. 

"  A  brave,  bold,  quite  proper-look- 
ing young  fellow,"  added  Mistress 
Betsy. 

**  And  now  just  look  at  him,"  con- 
tinued Mistress  Polly  pathetically  ;  and 
they  surveyed  me  sorrowfully,  while 
malicious  mischief  played  around  the 
corners  of  their  eyes. 

I  laughed  outright.  I  could  not  help 
it,  so  droll  was  the  expression  on  their 
faces. 

*'  True,  your  ladyship,"  I  said  ;  "  the 
toga  does  not  fit  a  young  man  so  well 
as  the  buckled  sabre  and  glittering 
epaulets.  But  now  that  dull  peace  has 
come,  the  hall  of  the  Legislature  is  the 
only  place  where  you  can  throw  the 
weight  of  your  sword  in  the  conflict  and 
wield  some  influence  in  the  great  strug- 
gles of  the  country  ;  would  you  have 
me  idle?" 


240  The  Tory  Maid 

"  Nay,  I  would  not  have  that,"  said 
Mistress  Polly  judiciously.  "But  your 
round  head  and  big  hands  are  just  the 
things  for  a  fight,  and  though  your 
voice  is  —  well  —  can  be  heard  a  con- 
siderable distance,   I    am    afraid " 

She  paused,  as  if  doubtful  about  its  be- 
ing put  to  any  good  use  in  the  hall  of 
the  Assembly. 

Decidedly  I  was  getting  the  worst 
of  it. 

At  this  moment  Dick  Ringgold,  who 
represented  Kent  with  me,  came  swing- 
ing up  the  street,  and,  seeing  me  stand- 
ing on  the  steps,  hailed  me  with  — 

"  Hello,  Frisby,  have  you  heard  the 
news  ? " 

"  What  news  ?  " 

"Your  old  Tory  friend  Gordon  is 
on  the  Sally  Ann,  from  London,  which 
has  just  come  up  the  harbour." 

"  Any  one  with  him  P "  I  asked 
anxiously. 


The  Coming  of  the  Maid     241 

"Well,"  said  Dick,  maliciously  drawl- 
ing it  out,  "  I  heard  some  one  say  there 
was  a  young  lady  with  him." 

I  did  not  stop  to  protest  against  the 
laughter  that  followed  me  as  I  dashed 
down  the  street,  or  to  Dick's  shout  as 
he  called  something  after  me.  A  few 
minutes  later  I  was  on  the  wharf. 

Out  in  the  stream,  swaying  with 
the  current  of  the  tide,  lay  the  Sally 
Ann,  her  tall  spars  tapering  high  in  air, 
her  decks  full  of  bustle  and  activity, 
showing  the  journey's  end  and  that  the 
final  preparations  for  disembarkation 
were  under  full  headway. 

As  I  arrived  a  boat  was  pulling  off 

from  her  side  containing  two  passengers. 

As  I  saw  them  my  heart  gave  a  great 

bound ;  my  hand  went  to  my  hat  and 

swung  it  around  my  head.      In  answer 

to  my  signal   came  the  fluttering  of  a 

handkerchief 

"  Sir/'  said  I,  as  the  old  Tory  stepped 
16 


242  The  Tory  Maid 

ashore,  "  let  me  be  the  first  to  welcome 
you  back  to  old  Maryland." 

"  Would  that  all  my  enemies  were 
like  you  !  "  he  replied.  "  I  hesitated 
long  about  returning,  but  Jean  would 
have  it  so." 

And  Mistress  Jean  said  not  a  word 
as  I  took  her  hand  in  mine,  but  her 
face  was  mantled  in  scarlet  and  her  eyes 
were  downcast. 

The  prim  old  garden  of  the  Nichol- 
sons never  looked  more  charming,  the 
flowers  more  sweet  and  beautiful,  or  the 
green  boxwood  hedges  more  suggestive 
of  rest  and  repose;  the  lazy  waters  of 
the  Chester  rolled  along  at  its  foot, 
gently  lapping  the  grass.  Ah  !  the  sun 
was  shining  on  a  glorious  world  that 
day,  for  Mistress  Jean  walked  beside 
me. 

"  Mistress  Jean,"  said  I,  as  we  stood 
where  the  waters  met  the  grass  and 
looked   out  over  the  broad  and  silent 


The  Coming  of  the  Maid     24  j 

river,  flowing  on  and  on  as  if  to  eternity, 
"  our  lives  have  been  more  like  moun- 
tain torrents  than  the  broad  smooth 
river  here.  We  have  lived  through 
the  battles  and  sieges,  seen  blood  and 
death  and  all  the  horrors  of  a  great  war , 
but  now  that  peace  has  come,  and  our 
course  lies  through  pleasant  fields  and 
verdant  meadows,  would  it  not  be  best 
for  them  to  join  and  flow  on  as  this 
great  river  does,  Jean  ?  Ah,  Jean,  you 
know  how  much  I  love  you." 

And  then  she  placed  her  hand  in 
mine ;  her  eyes  spoke  that  which  I 
most  wished  to  know,  and  the  very 
earth  seemed  glorious. 

I  know  not  how  long  we  stood 
there,  when  there  came  Mistress  Nancy 
Nicholson's  voice  through  the  garden, 
calling,  "  Jean,  Jean,  where  are  you  ?  " 

"  Here,"  she  answered  ;  and  with  that 
Mistress  Nancy  came  running  round 
the  hedge. 


244  The  Tory  Maid 

"  Oh,  Jean,"  she  cried,  "  Dick  has 
proposed." 

And  then,  seeing  me,  she  stamped 
her  little  foot,  and  cried,  "  Oh,  bother  !  " 
blushing  meanwhile  as  red  as  one  of  her 
roses. 

"And  so  have  I,  Mistress  Nancy/* 
I   replied. 

And  now,  my  children,  I  end  this 
tale,  sitting  here  on  the  old  porch  at 
Fairlee.  The  pen  drops  from  my  hand, 
but  my  eyes  are  not  too  dim  to  see 
the  flash  of  the  sunlight  on  the  waters 
of  the  great  bay  through  the  break  in 
the  trees. 

Nor  are  they  too  dim.  Miss  Jean,  in 
spite  of  the  impertinent  toss  of  your 
head,  to  see  in  you  the  likenes?  of  the 
maid  that  led  me  such  a  wild  dance  in 
the  days  of  my  youth.  And  I  promise 
you,  if  you  do  not  smile  on  young 
Dick    Ringgold    and    stop    your   out- 


The  Coming  of  the  Maid     245 

rageous  treatment  of  him,  I  will  not 
leave   you   a   cent  in   my  will. 

There,  there ;  I  retract  every  word 
that  I  said.  Was  there  ever  so  auda- 
cious a  monkey  in  the  world  ? 

There,  I  have  finished.  Oh,  yes,  I 
forgot  — 

"  John  Cotton,  bring  me  some  more 
mint." 


THE    END. 


REGIONAL  LiBRAR/  FAOLr 


B    000  002  511     4 


